


Caught in the Undertow

by WuvWinchesterHugs



Series: Crossovers [18]
Category: Days of Our Lives, Under Currents - Nora Roberts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Diary/Journal, Domestic Violence, Homophobic Language, M/M, NSFW GIF, Secrets, Suspense, landscaping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 81
Words: 140,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22968649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WuvWinchesterHugs/pseuds/WuvWinchesterHugs
Summary: William Robert Horton grew up in a beautiful, perfectly kept mansion in Salem, Illinois. Strangers―and even Will's own uncle Eric―see his stepgrandfather and mother Sami as a successful CEO and his stylish stepdaughter, making appearances at her children’s piano recitals and baseball games. Only Will knows the truth, until one brutal night finally reveals the cracks in the facade, and Will escapes for college in Switzerland without a thought of looking back...Years later, Will returns to his hometown, determined to reconnect with the place and people that mean so much to him, despite the painful memories. As he resumes life in the colorful town, he meets a gifted landscape artist named Sonny, who is on the run from ghosts of his own.
Relationships: Hope Williams Brady/Eric Brady, Will Horton/Sonny Kiriakis
Series: Crossovers [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542751
Comments: 11
Kudos: 24
Collections: WilSon





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This fic is based off of Under Currents by Nora Roberts, and I do not take credit for the original work, nor the Days of Our Lives characters.
> 
> The only thing I take credit for is how I adapted Days of Our Lives into the book's story.

From the outside, the DiMera mansion looks perfect. The dignifying three floors of brick brags a wide expanse of glass to show off a view of the gardens and river.

The lawn is a rich, green skirt, sloping gently towards a set of steps and a wide veranda covered in zinnias that bloom beautifully in the spring.

In the back is a generously covered patio, covered in an outdoor living space with a kitchen and spectacular views. The carefully well kept garden adds a sweet scent.

Roses climb to soften the look of the long, vertical boards of the fence put up for privacy.

The garage holds a Mercedes and a sports sedan, a few quads, and no clutter to be seen.

Inside, the ceilings are flying. Both the living room and the smoking room offer a fireplace framed by the same brick as the exterior. The decor is incredibly tasteful--though some might whisper _intentional._ \--reflecting the vision of the couple that owns it.

Soft colors, coordinating fabrics, contemporary without wandering into flashy.

Stefano DiMera bought the lot in the projected development of the DiMera mansion long before his grandchildren had come to live with him. He picked the blueprint he thought suited him and his family best, making the necessary changes and additions, picking out the finishing touches, flooring, the wood, the contractors, even the decorators.

His stepdaughter, Sami, was more than happy to leave these decisions to her husband. His taste, in her honest opinion, is unparalleled.

If she ever does have her own idea or suggestion, he’ll listen. But even when he winds up pointing out why said idea or suggestion wouldn’t work, he still--now and then--includes her insight.

Like Stefano, Sami is okay with the newness, the status offered by the small community in Salem, Illinois. Though he was the one born and raised in status--but it was old money, the kind that one would call boring. Like the house she’d grown up in across town.

She’d been more than happy to sell what little share she had left of it to family, and use the money towards helping purchase brand spanking new furniture for the DiMera mansion. She’d handed the check right over to him--he’s the one taking care of them--without a word of complaint.

She’d never felt one moment of remorse.

They’ve been living here happily for almost a decade, raising their young, bright grandchildren, hosting important dinner parties, cocktail parties, garden parties. Sami’s job, as the stepdaughter of the CEO of DiMera Enterprises, is to always look beautiful and in style, to raise her children right, and keep the house clean, entertain guests, and run the committees.

Since the has a housekeeper/cook who helps 3 times a week, a groundskeeper that helps once a week, family more than willing to take the children if she and Stefano DiMera need an evening alone or a private trip for two, she always has time to focus on looking her best.

She never misses a school event, even served as head of the PTA for two years straight. She goes to school musicals, with Stefano in tow if work doesn’t keep him busy. She lives for fundraising, for both school and the local hospital. At every violin recital since Allie had turned 5, she’d always been in the front row.

She’s sat through most of her son Will’s baseball games as well. And if she missed one or two, she’d have an excuse, and anyone else forced to sit through the tedious nightmare that is youth baseball is completely understanding.

Though she’d never say this out loud, she favored her son. Will is such a beautiful, good-hearted, well-mannered boy. He never had to be asked twice to do his homework or keep his room clean, and is always polite without fail. In Will, she also sees herself. On the flip side, he had a tendency to sometimes talk back, or hole himself up in his room.

And yet, his grades stay up. If he still wanted to play baseball, he had to make the honor roll too. It was obvious to everyone but himself that his dreams of playing professionally were only a teenage fantasy. Just like Stefano, he’d be working at DiMera Enterprises.

But for the time being, baseball is the child’s spoils so the rod can be spared.

If Stefano has to use that rod now and again to punish him now and again, it’s for his own good. It’s character building, teaches respect and to understand boundaries.

Two days before Christmas, Sami drives the streets of Salem back home. She’d had a lovely holiday lunch with her family--maybe one or two more sips of champagne than she should’ve. She’d managed to burn it off holiday shopping. They’d be taking their annual ski trip. Or, more accurately, everyone else would ski while she’d take full advantage of the spa. She’s now the proud owner of a brand new pair of boots she can pack.

She looks at the other houses, their decorations. So beautiful, she thinks--nothing tacky allowed in this neck of town.

But there’s no point in modesty, her house is the best. Stefano had given her full reign on decorating, and she’d used it wisely.

When night falls, the lights will shine like stars, she thinks. The perfect outline for the house, wrapping around the potted trees on the front veranda. Shining inside the twin wreaths with their red and silver ribbons on the mansion’s double doors.

And let’s not forget the living room tree--all twelve feet of it--the lights, gold and green stars for ornaments. The smoking room tree with the same color scheme, but with cupids. Of course the mantels, the dining table, just as stylish and perfect.

And always brand new every single year. What’s the point in boxing it all up and storing it when you can rent someone to clean it all up afterwards?

She’d never understood her parents’ or Eric’s delight in digging out old, tacky decorations. They have plenty of time for that when they make their visit to the old place and Marlena. Eric would be the host for Christmas dinner, naturally. And then, thankfully, they’d go back to their retirement out of town.

She jolts when she sees Stefano’s personal driver’s car parked, and Sami checks her watch. And sighs in relief. She’s not late, he’s home early.

Delighted, especially since someone else is carpooling, she pulls in beside the car, gathering her bags.

She enters through the mudroom, hangs her coat, folding her scarf, removing her shoes before sliding into her flats she wears around the house.

When she steps into the kitchen, Stefano, still in his suit and tie, stands at the island.

“You’re home early!” After setting her bags down on the bar, she moves quickly, kissing him on the cheek lightly.

He smells like both the kiss and her favorite cologne of his.

“Where were you?”

“I had that holiday lunch with Marlena and Kate, remember?” She vaguely gestures to the calendar in the activity nook. “Just managed to top it off with holiday shopping.”

As she speaks, she goes to the fridge to grab a bottle of Perrier. “Can’t believe how many people are still Christmas shopping. Even Kate.” she says, adding ice from the ice maker, pouring her sparkling water over it. “Honestly, you’d think she’s be more organized about--.”

“You really think I care about Kate?”

His voice is calm, smooth, almost nice, which immediately sets off all kinds of alarms.

“Of course not. I’m just babbling.” She keeps the smile on her face, but her eyes are now wary. “Try to sit and relax. I’ll get you a new drink, and we can--.”

He tosses the glass, smashing it right in front of her feet. One shard cuts her ankle with a sting as the scotch splashes it.

Old Armour, she thinks with a wave of anger.

“Make a new drink out of that!” No longer calm or smooth, not even close to pleasant, the words hit her like a slap. “I spend all day in boardrooms, negotiating deals, and the thanks I get is coming home to an empty house?”

“I’m sorry. I--.”

“You’re _sorry_?” He grabs her arm, twisting it as he slams her against the counter. “You can’t be bothered to come home, and you’re sorry? You frittered the day away, spending my hard earned money, having lunch, shopping and gossiping with those nobodies while I spent six hours in the boardroom?”

Her breath hitches, her heart pounding. “I didn’t know you were coming home early. If you had called me, I would’ve been home straight away.”

“So now you’re the one calling the shots?”

She barely hears the words that hit her like punch after punch. But she knows that look very well, that angel of death look. The well groomed hair, the rough face colored with anger. The rage in those eyes are so unbelievably cold.

“It was on the calendar!” The pitch in her voice rises. “I told you just this morning.”

“Do you honestly believe I can be bothered to look at your ridiculous calendar? You’re home whenever I walk in the door. End of discussion. Do you understand?” He slams her against the counter again, sending pain all the way down her spine. “Everything you currently own is because of me. This house, the clothes on your back, the food you put on the table. I pay for a cook, and a housekeeper so you can be at my every beck and call! So you'll damn well be here the second I set foot in the door! And if I want to fuck my stepdaughter, your only response should ever be to spread your legs!”

To prove it, he slams himself against her.

She slaps him. Even knowing what’s about to happen--maybe because of what’s about to happen--she slaps him.

And that icy cold rage turns into flaming hot anger, lips peeling back.

He plows a fist into her midsection.

He never hits her face.


	2. Chapter 2

At fourteen, Will Horton’s heart and soul only care about one thing: baseball. He likes guys--he likes looking at naked guys once his pal Tad had taught him how to get past the parental controls. But baseball is still number one.

Tall and gangly for his age, all he wants to do is get through school and get discovered by the Titans--any American League team, really, but that’s his number one.

He’d go for shortstop--by then the current one will have retired.

This is what made up his dreams. Along with seeing a naked guy in the flesh.

Nobody in the word could’ve been happier than Will Horton as Mrs. Steven--Tad’s mom--carpools home in her SUV. Even if she has cheesy 80s music playing.

He doesn’t have much of a passion for cars. Not yet, anyway. But he does have that innate knowledge all young men his age seem to. And he prefers alternative anyway. Not that he’d ever be allowed to play it in the house anyway.

But even with the music playing, his sister and the other two kids excited about Christmas, Tad deep into his PSP, Will hits the highest note on the happy train.

No school for ten days straight! Even the thought of being forced to ski--not his favorite sport, especially when his step grandfather kept pointing out how his little sister skis in circles around him--could dampen the mood.

No homework for ten days. He hates homework like he hates liver.

Mrs. Stevens pulls the car over to let one of the other kids out. There’s the usual shuffling around, backpack grabbing, the familiar girly squealing.

They all had to get a hug in, because it’s Christmas vacation.

Everyone calls out a Merry Christmas--they’d called out Happy Holidays when dropping the other kid off, because he’s Jewish.

Almost home, Will thinks, watches the houses pass by. He figures he’ll just fix himself a snack then--no homework at all!--hole up in his room and settle in with an hour playing video games on his XBox.

Mom would have to heat up the pre-made lasagna, but she could manage that much.

Even better, Grandma Marlena and John are coming back to Salem tomorrow. He wishes they could stay with him instead with his Grandma Kate, but he plans on making his way over there the next afternoon and hang out. He could try and talk someone into baking cookies--wouldn’t be hard.

And they’ll be here for Christmas dinner. Mom doesn’t even have to put on the oven. All completely catered.

After dinner Allie will play the piano--he personally sucks at it, which would earn another dig at him from Stefano--and they’d sing along.

Completely cheesy, but he kind of likes it. Plus, he’s a pretty good singer, so he has that going for him.

As the car finally pulls over, Will gives Tad a fist bump.

“Be merry.”

“Back at you.” Tad says.

While Allie hugs her friend like they’re not going to see each other for a whole year, Will slides out. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Stevens, and thanks for the ride.”

“Merry Christmas, Will, and you’re always welcome.” She gives him a wide smile.

Will slings his backpack over his shoulder as Allie climbs out. Allie, almost an entire head shorter, shares the same coloring. The blonde hair--almost reaching her waist and pinned back with sparkly holiday barrettes--the same deep blue eyes. Her face is still babyish while his has started to angle out. Because he’s growing up, Grandma Kate even said so.

Not that he’s ready to start shaving or anything like that, though he does keep checking.

Because she’s his sister, he feels it’s his big brother duty to give her a hard time.

“What do you girls even talk about? It’s like it’s always, Oooooh, so-and-so!” Followed by loud kissy noises, making her flush with embarrassment.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“No you!”

They kept going back and forth until they get to the veranda--switching to nasty looks, knowing if they went inside fighting and their mom heard, they’d never hear the end of it.

Will digs the key out of his pocket, as Stefano had declared a long time ago that the mansion must always be locked up regardless if anyone is actually home.

The second the door is open, he hears it.

The snarl drops right off of Allie’s face, eyes going huge, filled with terror and tears. She immediately covers her ears.

“Upstairs.” Will orders. “Go right in your room, and stay there.”

“He’s attacking her again. He’s hurting her.”

Instead of going to her room, Allie runs right inside, back towards the huge room, standing, hands still on her ears. “Stop it!” She screams. “Stop it stop it stop it stop it!”

Will sees the blood on the floor from where his mom tried to move away. Her sweater is torn, a shoe missing.

“Go to your rooms!” Stefano shouts as he pulls Sami up by her hair. “This doesn’t concern either of you.”

Allie just keeps screaming, refusing to stop, even when Will tries to pull her back, or shield her.

He sees his step grandfather’s eyes of hatred track over them both, before landing on his sister. A new fear flashes inside Will, burning him up.

He doesn’t think, doesn’t even know what he’s doing. Just shoves his sister behind him, standing between her and Stefano, just a skinny little thing who’s yet to grow into his body. And with that anger still burning inside him, he charges.

“Get the hell away from her, you bastard!”

He runs right into Stefano. It’s more the surprise than any actual physical power that makes Stefano step back. “Get back.”

Will never knew what hit him. He’s just a fourteen year old boy, and the only time he’s ever fought anyone involved shoving and smack talk. He feels the fist--a hard punch to the gut, a few in the lower abdomen.

Where nobody would see it.

Next time, the fists hit him right in the face, and something behind his eyes bursts, making his vision go blurry. He feels two more before he finally drops, the pain worse than the fear, or anger. His world blacks out, and through it, he sees lights flashing.

With blood in his mouth, and his sister screaming, he promptly passes out.


	3. Chapter 3

The next thing Will’s aware of, Stefano is having someone sling him over their shoulder, carrying him upstairs. His ears are ringing something horrible, but he can still hear Allie crying, hearing Sami begging her to stop.

Whoever it is doesn’t lay him down on the bed, just shrugs him off so Will essentially flops down on the mattress. His whole body cries out in pain.

Somewhere, comes Stefano’s voice. “Do not disrespect me in my house again, or I’ll do more than damage your nose, or give you a black eye. You are nothing to me, do you understand? You’re nothing unless I deem you a worthy tool. Everything you are, including the very reason you breathe the same air as me, is because of me.”

Stefano’s voice comes closer as he speaks, in that calm, smooth accent. There’s two of him, and Will can’t even nod. The shaking starts, the cold that comes from shock.

“You will not be leaving this room until I deem it acceptable. You are not to speak to anyone. You’re not going to tell anyone about the personal business of this family, or the punishment you forced me to enforce will look like nothing. No one will ever believe you. You are an ant, and I am your God. I could have you murdered in your sleep, and no one would ever know. You’d do well to remember that next time you try standing on your own two feet.”

Then Stefano leaves, closing the door behind him.

Will drifts off again, easier than having to deal with the pain, or the words Stefano DiMera had said, words that had fallen like fists rather than sour notes.

When he wakes up again, the light’s changed. Not quite dark, but almost.

He can’t breathe through his nose. It almost feels like he has a very bad cold. One that has a really bad headache come with it, make his eyes pound behind their sockets.

His gut hurts like hell.

He tries to sit up, the room spinning, and for a second, Will’s scared he’s going to puke.

When he hears the clicking of a lock, he starts shaking again. He’s ready to do anything that stops those fists from ever touching his body again.

Then Mom comes in, turning on the light as she does. The light causes more pain, so Will closes his eyes.

“Stefano’s instructed me to tell you to clean yourself up, then use this on your face.”

Her voice is cool, which hurts as much as Stefano’s.

“Mom--”

“Keep your head elevated. You’re only allowed to leave your room to use the bathroom. As you can see, Stefano’s already arranged to have your computer, XBox, TV, and items he’s been more than generous to give. You will not see or talk to anyone except for Stefano or me. You’re not going to participate in Christmas Eve, or Day.”

“But I--”

“You’re sick.”

Will looks at her, looking for any sign of pity, or thankfulness. Any emotion whatsoever. “All I was trying to do was stop him from hurting you. I thought he was going to hurt Allie. I thought--”

“I don’t want your help.” Her ice cold voice makes Will’s chest hurt. “Whatever happens between me and Stefano is just that. You have two days to think about your role in this family, and earn back any privileges.”

Then she goes towards the door. “Follow the rules.”

When she leaves, leaving him by himself, he forces himself to sit up--has to close his eyes around the spinning room, forcing himself to breathe. Legs shaking, he stands, stumbling into the bathroom, and pukes, almost passing out again.

When he’s finally vertical again, he stares in the mirror over the sink.

He almost doesn’t even recognize himself, he thinks. His mouth is swollen, with a split lip. Nose almost like a clown’s. Matching black eyes, one swollen shut. Blood dried all over his face.

He lifts a hand to touch his nose, only to be rewarded by a sharp pain. He’s scared to shower with the dizziness, so he uses a washcloth to at least try and clean off some of the blood.

He grits his teeth, a tight grip on the sink with one hand so he doesn’t collapse, but the fear of not doing what he’s supposed to scares him more than the pain itself.

He cries, and doesn’t care. No one would ever see it anyway. Or care.

With one last look in the mirror, he slowly makes his way back to the bedroom.

He slowly crouches down to take off his shoes, then his jeans. Every so often he has to pause and catch his breath, wait for the dizzy spell to pass.

Down to his boxers and sweatshirt, he crawls into bed, taking the ice his mom had left him, laying it as lightly as he can on his nose.

It hurt, it fucking hurts, so he switches it over to his eye, which succeeds in bringing some relief, so he just lays there, now in complete darkness, planning. 

He’ll just leave. The second he can, he’ll fill his backpack with his belongings. He doesn’t have a lot of money due to Stefano banking all of it. But Will had still managed to keep a little nest egg rolled up in his socks. His video game money.

He can always hitchhike. The thought alone brings such a thrill. Maybe to LA. He’ll get the hell away from this prison of a mansion where everything looks so perfect, to hide away all the ugly secrets, just like his money.

He’ll get a job somewhere. He can get one. Forget about school, he thinks as he drifts off again. That’s something.


	4. Chapter 4

When Will wakes up again, hears the lock clicking again, he pretends to be asleep. But it’s not Stefano’s steps he’s hearing, or his mom’s. He opens his eyes as Allie shines a small slight in his face.

“Don’t do that.”

“Quiet.” she warns. “They’ll wake up and catch me if I turn the light on.” She sits on the side of the bed. “I brought you a sandwich. Couldn’t get you any lasagna because they’d notice. You should eat something.”

“My stomach is not in best shape, Al.”

“Some. Try some.”

“You should go. If they catch you--”

“They’re fast asleep. I made sure of that. I’m staying in here. I’m staying until you eat something. I’m sorry, Will.”

“Allie, please. Don’t.”

“I’ll cry if I want to. You’re crying.”

Will lets the tears fall, not having enough strength or willpower to stop them.

Swiping her own tears, Allie reaches out a hand. “I brought a drink too. They won’t notice if a glass is gone. I cleaned up everything, and once you’re done, I’ll wash it.”

They whisper the entire time--they’re used to it by now--but now her voice breaks.

“He hurt you, Will. He just kept hitting you and hitting you, and when you fell on the ground, he hit you in the stomach. I thought he’d killed you.”

She lays a hand on his chest, shoulders shaking. Will touches her hair.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. Just squeezed me and shook me until I shut up. I was more scared of what would happen if I didn’t.”

“You did the right thing.”

“No, you did.” Her whisper is thick with tears. “You tried to. She didn’t even try and stop him from hurting you. She said nothing. When he finally stopped, he just told her to clean up the blood. Clean up the broken glass in the kitchen, clean herself up and have dinner ready by 7.”

She sits up, holding out half the sandwich. In that moment, Will loves her so much it physically hurts.

He takes it, trying a bite, glad when his stomach decides it’s not about to make a return appearance.

“We’re gonna have to tell Uncle Eric and Grandma Marlena and John that you’re sick. You have the flu, and it's contagious. You need to rest, and Stefano’s looking out for you. Won’t let them see you. Then we have to tell the ones at the resort you had an accident. He told us all of this at dinner. I had to eat something or he’d get mad. Then I puked while I was coming upstairs.”

He takes another bite, reaching for her hand in the complete dark. “I know how you feel.”

“When we come back, we’re going to say you had an accident on the hill. Fell, so Stefano took care of everything.”

“Yep.” That one word is bitter on his tongue. “He definitely took care of everything.”

“He threatened to hurt you again if we didn’t. Worse, even. I don’t want him to hit you again, Will. You tried to stop him from hitting Mom, and protected me too. You thought he was going to turn on me. I did too.”

He feels her shift, sees the faint light of the flashlight shed left on the bed she’d pointed at the window. “One day he’s going to.”

“No, no he’s not.” Under pain is the anger. “You’d never give him a reason to. And more than that, I won’t let him.”

“Since when does he need a reason? You don’t even need to be an adult to know that.” Her tone sounds grown up, but still more tears fall. “I don’t think either one of them loves us. He wouldn’t hurt us, or make us lie if he did. She’d never let it keep happening in front of her if she did. I’m positive they don’t love us.”

He knows they don’t--had known it since he’d watched his mom come into the room, eyes blank. “We still have each other.”

While she sits with him, making sure Will actually eats, he understands he can’t walk away, run off and leave Allie behind. He has to stay put. Get stronger. Strong enough to fight back.

Not for his mom, but his sister.


	5. Chapter 5

On Christmas Eve, Eric Brady still has about 6 things left to do on his list. He’s always been like that, always working on a fixed schedule. And it was almost inevitable that everything on every single one of his lists will take longer than he’d anticipated.

Every. Single. Time.

And the other thing? Others tend to show up out of nowhere, which adds more time than he’d planned.

Take today for example. In addition to doing another once over of the house, making their mom’s favorite Christmas Eve dinner, and driving out to Chicago to pick up their mom and John Black from the airport, he’d had to stop by the market to grab a chicken.

Poor Will is sick with the flu, so Eric had added making that chicken in a nice pot of chicken soup. Which adds to delivering the soup to his twin sister’s house over to the DiMera mansion across town.

Which inevitably adds to the tedious chore of pretending to be sweet and nice to Sami.

To make it all even worse, he has to do it after Sami announced that Christmas Eve dinner was being held at the DiMera mansion.

It’s not a big deal, she’d said, Eric thinks as he throws on clean clothes. No, no big deal at all, because Sami had already called a caterer and switched the venue.

A venue. Jesus Christ.

Who in their right mind hires a caterer for a family dinner?

Sami Stick-up-her-ass Brady, that’s who.

But he’s going to be sweet, and nice. No way is he going to start a fight with Sami while their mom and John are visiting. He’ll take over the soup still simmering, and have a small visit with his under the weather nephew.

And he’ll sneak Will the latest comic book, since they weren’t among Sami and Stefano’s approved reading materials.

What they don’t know isn’t gonna come back to haunt him. Will’s very good at keeping secrets. A little too good, Eric thinks. Maybe he doesn’t spend as much time with Will and Allie as he probably should be, but sometimes when he does, he gets a feeling like...something just not right.

More than likely it’s just his imagination, Eric admits, pulling on his shoes. Or looking for something to hit his twin sister with. They’d been so close when they were kids--opposites do sometimes attract, and the fact that they were twins just made them closer.

They’d started growing apart as adults. In fact, other than when they absolutely had to be polite--usually--on the surface, there they were, caught in the undertow again. Some odd resentment.

In fact, if it wasn’t for their parents, and his nephew and niece, Eric can honestly say he could go the rest of his life never speaking to Sami again, and not lose any sleep over it.

“Awful thing,” he mutters as he heads downstairs. “Awful thing to think, much less feel.”

Even worse, he worries with that kind of thinking, it’s a mutual dislike on his part--which adds a level of shame to it.

Sami was the louder one, always was. Not that Eric wasn’t just as loud himself when he had to be. But Sami could always make herself twice as loud with her looks. And given the gender difference, she was always noticed first.

She’d gotten married so many times, to rich and poor guys alike. And for a wedding gift, had their mom not given her a slick convertible?

Then she’d gone and married the heir to DiMera Enterprises. A lawyer, as handsome as a British prince. Had a fancy-pants engagement party, stuffy bridal shower, and completely over the top wedding.

And she’d looked so beautiful, Eric remembers as he turns off the heat. Like the White Witch in the snowy white dress.

He hadn’t resented Sami on that day. He was happy for her--even when he had to wear the powder blue tux.

But after it was over, the resentment was right there waiting.

“Stop thinking about it.” he orders himself, taking a jacket. “It’s Christmas, and Will’s sick.”

He grabs a canvas bag--with the comic book already stashed inside--grabbing hot pads to pull the soup out to his car, and transfer the soup to the DiMera mansion.

He’d had the car washed, waxed, and detailed--something he finally got to cross off the list yesterday--so there’s no post-its on the dash. And he’d made a personal check on all of the rented bungalows, so when their mom and John ask--and he knows they will--he can tell them the Horton Center, the family business, is safe and secure.

He likes being in charge of it now that his mom and John stepped back to pursue their own careers. Maybe he resents--there’s that word again--cutting the check to Sami for her share of the profits every quarter. Sami doesn’t do anything, but blood is still blood, family is still family, so she has a share of what John and Marlena had built from the ground up and he’d maintained.

At least the place is his now, he thinks, looking back after he’d settled the soup put on the floor of the passenger seat.

He loves it, he really does. He’d lived in it almost his whole life, and he has every intention of keeping it until the day he dies. Since he doesn’t have any kids of his own, and the possibility of any in the future looks dimmer and dimmer, he’s going to leave it to Will and Allie when the time comes.

Maybe one of them would come live here. Maybe they’ll rent it or sell it. He’ll be long gone by then, so it’s not like he’ll know anyway.

“Now there’s a happy Christmas thought.”

Laughing at himself, he climbs in the car, thinking how pretty the place will look when the sun goes down when the lights come on, the tree in the window. Same way it has in all his childhood Christmas memories, with the house smelling like pine and fresh baked cookies.

As he pulls out to take the road to the mansion, he blows a loose strand of hair out of his eyes. A shave somehow hadn’t made it on his pre-Christmas list, but now it has to wait.

As he drives past the river, he turns on the radio, volume up, humming along as he passes the Center, the pier, other houses, and curves towards town with the Rockies rising up into the sky.

The road rises and falls, twisting and turning--he knows every single inch of it. He cuts past Horton Town Square to get a peek at all the shops decked out for Christmas.

He spots Serena Mason carting a bag, heading towards his parked car. He was with Serena so long ago--God, that really was so long ago, he thinks. They’d discovered, rather rudely, that they were better off as friends than they'd ever be as anything serious, and had parted ways on the friendliest of terms even Eric couldn’t have imagined.

He almost pulls over to say hi, but quickly decides he doesn’t have time, not if he wants to catch a moment with his nephew.

He drives back past the river again, all the way back into Salem.

Same as he does every time he turns in, he thinks, I’d put a bullet in my brain if I had to live here.

No question the neighborhood is big and vibrant. Not exactly the same, as there’s so many styles to choose from. And add-ons.

But in his mind, there’s a very creepy Pleasantville air to the development. All the way down to the sidewalk you walk on, the driveways, the small park--access only allowed by residents and guests--with the meticulously planted trees, benches and walkways.

But his twin loves it, and in truth the entire lifestyle suits her very well.

Reminding himself to be nice, Eric pulls into the driveway, carrying the soup up to the door, ringing the bell. Like a complete stranger, he thinks, instead of family. But they keep their precious mansion locked up like Fort Knox.

Nice, he thinks, putting a smile on his face.

He keeps it on when Sami opens the door, looking stunning in white pants, red sweater, hair in blonde waves on her shoulders.

And her eyes, the same Brady blue as Eric’s, display only a mild exasperation. “Eric. We weren’t expecting you.”

Not even a, Eric! Merry Christmas. Come on in.

But Eric keeps the smile on.

“Got your message about Will, and tomorrow’s dinner. I tried returning, but--”

“We were busy.”

“So was I. But I just felt so bad for Will, and I made the family recipe for chicken soup. How is he?”

“Sleeping.”

“Sami, it’s freezing. Can you at least let me in?”

“Samantha, who is it?” Stefano, confident, imposing, steps behind Sami. He smiles, but as Eric often notices, it never quite reaches his eyes.

“Eric! Merry Christmas. This is quite the surprise.”

“I made some soup for Will. I wanted to bring it by and see him, before I picked up Mom and John from the airport.”

“Come in, come in. Let me take that for you.”

“It’s still hot. I’ll just take it to the kitchen, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. That’s very nice of you. I’m sure Will will definitely appreciate it.”

He carries it back, with Stefano next to him, past the Home and Garden catalog perfection with holiday decor. “The house is incredible.” He sets the pot on the stove. “I can take a bowl up to Will, sit with him for a few minutes. Bet he could use some company.”

“I told you he’s sleeping.”

He glances at his twin, “Maybe he--”

“He’s also contagious.” Stefano adds, slipping an arm around Sami’s shoulders. “I couldn’t risk you being exposed, especially knowing you’ll be in close contact with your mother and John Black.”

He doesn’t consider either Marlena or John to be that old, and hearing him refer to them like that just pisses him off. “We’re all perfectly healthy, and he’s coming to dinner tomorrow anyway, so--”

“No, there’s no way he’ll be recovered enough in time for that. He needs his sleep.” Stefano says, in his most authoritative voice.

“You can always move it to my place--”

“It’s better for everyone,” Stefano says cheerfully. “We’ll just stop by, have dinner so John and Marlena can see Samantha and Allie, but we won’t be staying long.”

Eric swears he actually feels his jaw drop. “You’re leaving Will by himself? On Christmas?”

“He understand why, and for today and the majority of tomorrow, he’ll be sleeping anyway. But we’ll be sure to add the chicken soup to his medicine. I know what’s best for him.” Stefeno continues before Eric can interrupt again. “I’m not just his step grandfather, I have connections with the best doctors.”

Just the thought of Will spending Christmas sick and alone, makes Eric’s chest ache. “That’s not right. Can’t we just wear masks or something? He’s only a kid. It’s Christmas.”

“We’re his guardians.” There’s an edge in Sami’s voice. “It’s our decision. When and if you have kids, it’s up to you what you do with them.”

“Where’s Allie? At least--”

“Up in her room. Christmas project.” Stefano replies. “Top secret. You’ll see her tomorrow. Thank you again for thinking of Will, making the soup for him.”

He steps away from Sami, to turn Eric around, walking him back to the door in what almost feels like a march. “Tell John and Marlena we’re looking forward to seeing them tomorrow.”

“A-at the least, let me bring his gifts over so he can have them in the morning.”

“There’s no need. He’s a fourteen year old boy, Eric, not 4. Drive safe.”

He may not have pushed Eric out the door, but that’s exactly how it feels. Anger and frustration stings his chest as he walks back to his car.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong.”

He repeats that to himself over and over as he gets behind the wheel, driving out of the neighborhood.

But he’s just an uncle. There’s nothing he can do.


	6. Chapter 6

The alarm clock in Will’s room reads almost 7. Even he knows that much, even at night. He’s already spent more than a full day locked in here, and his face and gut hurt so damn bad, all he managed to get was a few hours here and there. The pain never stops, and now with it hunger.

He’d eaten the other half of the sandwich Allie brought him, very early in the morning. After eight, his mom brought in some dry toast and some water, and another ice pack.

Bread and water, he thinks. Like a prisoner in medieval times.

Because that’s what he really is.

She hasn’t even said a word to him, nor he to her.

Now it’s almost 7 at night, and nobody’s shown up. Which just made him worry about Allie. Is she locked in her room too? Sometimes he--Will has never once called Stefano anything other than Stefano--locks them both in. But only for a few hours at a time, and usually they had _something_ to occupy them.

He tried reading--they hadn’t confiscated his books. But it hurts so much, makes his head hurt to try and keep his eyes on a page. He forces himself into the shower because hurting led to sweating, and he can’t stand to be covered in his own stink anymore.

Water running, face pounding, he allows himself to cry.

His face is the equivalent of Rocky at the end of almost every Rocky movie ever made.

He has to be strong. Tad’s mom even goes to the gym. Their family has their own personal gym. He could ask Mrs. Stevens to show him how the equipment works. He’d claim it was about wanting to bulk up for baseball.

And soon enough, he can leave for college.

But how can he even think about leaving Allie?

Maybe the best thing to do here is go to the cops, tell them everything. But the police chief is in Stefano DiMera’s back pocket. Everyone in Salem either respected him, worked for him, or were scared of him.

It hurts just to think about it, so he makes himself think about baseball instead. He holds a baseball in his hands under the covers, feeling the roughness, the stitching, like a baby would hug a stuffed bear.

He hears the click of a lock, and with the hunger in his gut, only feels relieved.

Until he sees Stefano, lit up by the hall light. Tall, carrying a tray, along with what looks to be their on call doctor carrying a medical bag.

Stefano walks in, setting the tray down on the foot of the bed. He walks back to the door to turn on the lights---ouch--and shuts the door behind him.

“Sit up.” Stefano orders.

Shaking again, Will makes himself sit up.

“Any signs of dizziness?”

Careful, Will reminds himself. Respect the man asking. “Slightly, sir.”

“Nausea.”

“Also slightly. Not as bad as last night.”

“Any vomiting?” Stefano asks as the doctor opens the medical bag.

“Not since last night.”

The doctor pulls out a pen light, shining it in Will’s eyes. “Follow my finger with your eyes.”

Even that hurts, but Will just does what the doctor says.

“Headaches?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Double vision?”

“Not anymore, sir.”

The doctor checks his ears, then his teeth. “Any blood in your urine.”

“No, sir.”

“Looks like you have a mild concussion.” the doctor diagnoses.

“Considering how you acted, I’m surprised it’s not worse.”

“Lean back.”

When he does, the doctor presses his hands on both sides of Will’s nose. Pain explodes, like something burst. Will tries to push away, crying out in pain. The doctor reaches in his bag for tools, fear making Will sweat from every pore in his body.

“Don’t, please. It hurts.”

“Head back.” The doctor closes a hand around Will’s throat, squeezing.

Will screams. He can’t hold it in anymore. He can’t even see what the doctor is doing. Even if he could open his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to see through the red haze of pain over his eyes.

Tears run down his face. He can’t help that either.

When it’s finally over, he just curls in on himself.

“Be glad you don’t have a deviated septum.”

“Thank the doctor, WIlliam.” Stefano orders.

Will makes himself swallow the bile that’s suddenly made an appearance in his throat. “Thank you.”

“Use the ice.” is all the doctor says, then packs up his bag, gives Stefano the bill, and leaves, no questions asked. He never does.

“You will remain in your room until we leave on Boxing Day. You fell off your bike, because you got careless. When we’re at the resort, you’ll stay in your room at the suite. When we come back, you’ll say you had a skiing accident. You didn’t fully recover from the flu, got careless, but were stubborn. If you change the story in any way shape or form, it will spell very bad news for you. I’ll go to court and have you legally disowned. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Though Will keeps his eyes closed, he knows Stefano’s still there, smirking.

“Next week, you’ll write to your grandma Marlena and John thanking them for whatever gifts they were foolish enough to buy you. Those gifts will be promptly donated. The gifts selected by me and your mother will be returned. You don’t deserve anything, so you don’t get anything. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t care, doesn’t care. Just go away already.

“You’ll get your computer back for schoolwork only. I’ll be checking nightly. If you’ve shown genuine remorse in a month, your grades haven’t suffered, you’ll have the rest of your things returned too. If not, they will also be donated to someone who actually deserves it. I’ll also go back on my permission for you to play baseball, not just this season, but ever.”

“Is this clear?”

Hate. Will never knew he could hate one person so much. “Yes sir.”

“I’ll be looking at boarding schools in schools outside America if you don’t eventually straighten up. Your uncle made that soup for you. Be sure to thank him when--if--you see him.”

Finally, finally, he leaves, locking the door behind him.

Will stays right where he is, until he can ignore the pain again. He’d known how dangerous Stefano could be, how violent, that he could slide on the mask of the man of the house, over what it’s hiding.

But he’d never really known, or had lived in denial until this exact moment, Stefano DiMera was a monster.

He makes himself get up, sitting on the foot of the bed, picking up the bowl of soup.

It’s cold, he notes. Just another mean thing.

But it’s you who’s lost, old man, he thinks as he eats. Nothing’s ever tasted as good as this in my entire life.

Once he’s more steady, he takes another shower, having sweated right through his shirt. He makes himself walk around the room, walking and walking again. Being strong has to start somewhere. He wishes he could have some more of that soup, but right now he’ll settle for putting ice on his face.

He hears Christmas music from downstairs, walking to the window. He looks out towards the square, sees the lights all decorated on the shops. He can pick out his uncle’s house, thinking of him and his grandparents celebrating Christmas Eve. Were they thinking about him at all?

He hopes they are. Sick with the imaginary flu, and isn’t that just too damn bad?

But they don’t know, they don’t they don’t. What could they, can they do, even if they did? Nothing against a man like Stefano DiMera. If Stefano said his step grandson fell off his bike, or got hurt in a skiing accident, nobody would dare question it. No one would ever look into the possibility that he would attack his own step grandson.

And if Will were to even try and make them see, what would they do?

He can’t leave Salem, leave the country. No way is he leaving Allie in this hellhole.

So he just has to fake it, just like his mom is. Fake learning his lesson. Say yes sir. Keep up his grades. Do whatever it takes.

And one day he’ll be stronger, older, and braver, and never have to pretend again.

But even then, who would believe him? Or wouldn’t be too scared to dig deeper? Maybe his uncle. Maybe. Will’s pretty sure his Uncle Eric doesn’t particularly like Stefano--or his mom. He knows they don’t like Uncle Eric, because they say so every chance they get.

How he’d never amounted to anything, how he only became a priest because he can’t even bag a wife. So many other things, too.

He hears the piano, slightly relieved. If Allie’s playing piano, she has to be okay.

Maybe he can get some proof. Get Tad to show him how to set up a hidden camera. No, no. He’s not pulling Tad into this crap. If Tad tells someone, they’ll inevitably tell his mom or Stefano.

Baseball gone, school out of the country, and another chance to beat him to a bloody pulp.

He doesn’t have the guts to endure that again.

But he can start writing it.

Filled with inspiration, he goes to his desk, finding a notebook, a few pens, and pencils.

Not yet, he decides. They might come in before going to bed. If they catch him, it’s over before it even starts.

So he waits.

He’s still waiting in the dark, holding his baseball for company when he hears it.

Stefano calls out, “Good night, Allison.”

She calls back, “Good night.”

Seconds later, Will can hear her whispering at his door, “Sorry I couldn’t sneak in. I heard yelling, but--”

“It’s alright. I’m alright. Go back to bed. I don’t want them to catch you.”

“I’m sorry.” she says again.

He hears the door close, so he lets himself fall back asleep for a while.

When he wakes up again, it’s by his mom laughing. Walking upstairs, muffles as they walk past his door. Staying right where he is, eyes shut, keeping his breathing even. No way in hell is he ever trusting them again after yesterday.

Which turns out to be the right call, when he hears the lock click a few minutes later. The hall light lights up his eyelids. He keeps them shut, but not tightly--that’s always what gives you away.

Even after the door is already shut, the lock clicking, he still waits. One minute, then another, then five--he counts them all.

When he finally feels safe, he creeps over to his desk, grabs the notebook, along with a few pens. Just to be even safer, he takes them, along with the flashlight Allie left him, and brings them back to bed.

If he hears the lock click again, he’ll still have time to shove everything under his blanket, and lie back down.

With the smallest light, he starts writing.

_ I know most likely nobody will ever see this. He’s told me so countless times. He’s too powerful, too smart, so they’ll never believe me, or question him. But the golden rule you’re taught in English is if you want a better grip on your thoughts, you write them down. I need to keep a grip on my thoughts. _

_ On December 23rd, 2007, when my sister Allie and I came home from school, I found my mom on the floor. My step grandfather had beaten her up again, and when I stepped in to defend her, he beat the crap out of me. _

He winds up writing for over an hour.

When he’s finally too tired to keep writing, he grabs a coin from his bank, using it to unscrew the air vent, hiding the notebook inside. Puts the pens back, despite them running out of ink.

Then he crawls silently back into bed, and sleeps.


	7. Chapter 7

Will does exactly as he’s told, and the pain eventually goes away, along with the bruises. No one at the resort dares question the explanation of a bike accident, or the orders for Will to not be bothered in his room during their stay. No one in Salem dares question Stefano DiMera’s skiing accident explanation.

Well, no, that’s not entirely true. Uncle Eric did, kind of, wondering why Will was allowed to ski while still recovering from the flu, but it doesn’t do anything.

Life moves on.

If there was any life lesson to be learned here, it’s to never let his guard down.

He keeps his room neat and tidy without being reminded, does his chores without complaining. He studies, though it’s changed to out of fear, rather than any genuine interest. If his grades slip for even a moment, he’ll lose baseball. Baseball is now not just his passion, his dream, but now it’s his one chance at freedom.

When he signs with minor league, he’ll leave Salem, and never look back, not even once.

Everyone acts like two days before Christmas never happened. Everyone in the DiMera mansion is living a lie. He passes all of Stefano’s tests--even Will’s not dumb enough to think they’re not. The small shoves or slaps to the face for no reason--the satisfying look on Stefano’s face when Will just focuses on the ground doesn’t say a word.

At night, in the privacy of his own bedroom, only then does he write the truth.

_ January 12th _

_ Stefano shoved me against the wall. He said I was sulking through dinner, and apparently didn’t show enough appreciation. I asked Tad’s mom to not tell anyone she’s showing me how to use their gym equipment, because I wanted to surprise them. Not like she ever talks to Stefano anyway. I don’t think she likes him that much. She also said to not call her “ma’am” every five seconds, because it makes her feel like an old woman. Since she’s helping me out, I can just call her Kaye. _

_ March 2nd _

_ I’m finally stronger. I can curl 20 pounds, 15 reps, 5 sets. I even bench pressed 80 pounds and 40 pushups. I’ve gained 10 pounds. According to Kaye, it’s muscle mass. First preseason game is tomorrow, and Coach literally called me the Boy with the Golden Arm. Pretty sure that’s also lean muscle mass. Got a double and a triple, along with 3 RBIs. We’re going to crush them tomorrow! Mom said to empty the dishwasher, and without thinking, I said sure. Stefano slapped me. Never say, “Sure.”. It’s always, “Yes, ma’am.” you insolent bastard. Then he turned his hand on her because she didn’t correct me and called her a worthless bitch. I saw Allie ready to cry, and was quick to give her a look to stop her. One member should go slap free, if only for today. _

He writes every single night, talking about his games, his progress with his workout routine, and the abuse at the hands of Stefano, in full detail.

He writes about the excitement and thrill when the Salem Titans take the championship. Of how proud Stefano pretended to be in public during the game, and how casual he was in his criticism of the way Will ran the bases, and his fielding as they were driving home. Of how Kaye Stevens high fived him, calling him a champ.

By the time he’s turned 15, he’s closer to 5 feet 10, weighing at 135. When Kaye calls him a lean mean machine, she has no clue that's what Will’s been counting on.

When December 23rd comes around again, exactly one year later, he wakes up from a nightmare, sweating. Stefano had found the notebooks and had beaten him to death.

But nothing happened, and the holidays passed without a hitch.

His first girlfriend is found in Mia McCormick, and she winds up being his first date when he invites her to the end of school dance in May.

They doubled with Tad and his current girl of the moment, Kaye volunteers to drive them to and from.

He has to get a new suit and shoes, which he played off as pointless, but if he’s being honest, he likes it. He’d even grown another two inches, not just in height, but in his feet as well.

He hates his hair--Stefano had ordered him to keep it in a buzz cut, reminding him how easy he could ship him off to out of the country, or even military school. But despite that, he still thinks he’s pretty damn good looking. He’s hoping to grow into the rest of his height by graduation, and maybe he’ll even get there. That’ll put him at the same height as Stefano. Stefano, who called Mia “Will’s little trollop” when she wasn’t there to defend herself.

His gut still hurts from when Stefano had taken a fist to him, after Will had made the mistake of looking at him the last time Stefano had said that to get under his skin.

Two years and two months, he reminds himself. He’ll be of age, and free. They thought he was going to Salem U, to study business. No way in hell. He’s aiming for Switzerland. Not only is it on the other side of the fucking globe, but he can play baseball, along with pursuing a potential career in writing.

He’ll apply there, a few in LA. If it’s good enough for all those that had gone before him, it’s good enough for William Robert Horton.

He’ll use Uncle Eric’s address, and when he’s that close, he'll tell him. He’d keep the secret--he’s almost positive. He doesn’t want to work for Dimera Enterprises, Eric would understand. If he can just grab a scholarship, he’s sure he’ll make it work. No way in hell would Stefano would ever pay unless he behaved, so he needs them. Badly.

He has a pretty good shot. With all the courses he’s taking, he has a 4.3 GPA, knowing his coach would back him when it came to baseball. Math and science had really done a number on him, but he still manages to keep the grades out of the danger zone.

He’ll be paying Tad back for the rest of his life, for everything.

He’d grabbed a 200 on his PSATs. Only a 45 in math, which had earned him a backhanded slap, along with another punch to the gut. He’ll have to take it again next spring, so he can bring that math up, but he’ll be more than prepared by then.

He orders himself to not think about it. He has a date, for crying out loud!


	8. Chapter 8

The knock on the door has Will’s shoulder go tense, before remembering neither his mom nor Stefano ever knocks. He opens the door, finding Allie.

“Look at you.”

“Smooth aside from the hair.”

“Be glad you don’t still have to put ribbons in your hair, or for all the activities that need your hair out of the way. All my friends are allowed to cut theirs or do something funky. I’m 12, and I still have to wear it like I’m a baby doll.”

“Tad and his got a streak just for tonight.”

“They’re weird.” She plunks down to sit on the bed. “So.. you know Michael Hastings?”

“Kinda sorta. Freshman, on the basketball team. I think he even made varsity. Why?”

“You can’t be serious.” Will snorts. “He’s in high school, and you’re decidedly not.”

“I will be as of next year.”

“You have a crush on Mikey.” Now he’s snickering. “Should I prepare to catch you practicing kissing on your hand?”

“Shut the hell up.”

Will keeps it up, as was his big brother duty, making kissing noises. Before stopping abruptly, spinning around. “Come on, Allie, lay off.”

“This is really none of your business.”

When she starts to get up, Will waves her down. “Mikey’s black.”

Her eyes flare. “If you’re waiting until now to be a racist, I--”

“Come on, Allie, you know me better than that.”

She inches her chin higher. “I thought so.”

“You’ve heard how Stefano talks about Mia just because her family isn’t one of the big families in town? Just imagine, really imagine, what he’d do to you if he caught you hanging out with someone who’s black.”

She drops onto the bed again. “It doesn’t even matter anyway. He doesn’t even know I exist.”

If Stefano hears even the idea… “You need to watch yourself. Smart, and careful. Just five more years, and then it’ll all be over. It seems like forever, but it’s not.”

“Mom keeps talking about all this stuff I have to do so I’ll get invited to the debutante ball. The violin, grades, my dress code, and how I talk. You get to escape with baseball. White dresses and jewelry---you know what? Screw it.”

She jumps back up, throwing her hands up. “It’s not me, and I don’t want it.”

“You think any of this is me?” he gestures to his hair. “Smart and careful. Especially once I’m not here anymore.” He looks to the door. “I’m actually thinking of telling Uncle Eric before I leave.”

“No way.” Fear lights up her eyes, and her voice. “Stefano would go ballistic.”

“Exactly. He’s going to go ballistic when he realizes I’m not going to Salem U, and I’m gone. He might take it out on you. You need someone looking after you. Uncle Eric would fit the bill.”

“What could he possibly do?”

“Something.” It eats away at him, like termites on wood, endlessly. “I’m not gonna just leave without making sure someone’s here for you.”

“You can’t look after me for the rest of my life.”

“Watch me. We’ll talk more later--not in the house. Talk it all the way out. Tad’s parents could help, too.”

“Will, you can’t do that. It’s not like either one of them would believe us.”

“Kaye’s a doctor. She knows Stefano, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like him. She doesn’t actually say that, but I can tell. We’ll talk more later,” he repeats. “But I refuse to let him hurt you.”

She starts to say something, then shakes her head.

“What?”

“Nothing. Like you said, talk later. If they hear us...”

Will knows a few things about POWs, how they connect with each other to have that bond, so work and try to escape. He and Allie are like prisoners in what’s supposed to be their own home.

But for 5 entire hours, he’s free. From the time he gets into the Stevens car, and back out, everything’s almost normal. And exciting.

True, he still had to walk up to Mia’s door, go inside, and have a bunch of pictures taken, over and over. Even her grandparents are there, and they take even more, talking with a slight accent.

And Mia looks incredible with her hair crimped, as she explained. He compliments her dress, which was genuine, because it matches his tie, along with her eyes.

The dance committee had decorated the gym with a Hawaii theme. Not that he cares about any of that, but the fact that they’d hired a DJ and all the kooky lights were pretty cool.

Since Tad ranks as the worst dancer in the group, Will knows he looks pretty good in comparison. Especially the slow dances, where all he has to do is sway back and forth, with Mia leaning against him.

She’s already let him touch her breasts--over the dress, but he’d still touched them. He’s pretty sure he should be more excited about this, especially since it’s pretty apparent she’s willing to let him get a real feel.

But with the way she’s smiling at him, he thinks, maybe.

She wraps her arms around his neck, giving a small tug to get him to kiss her. SHe tastes like candy, smells like a garden.

“Best night of my life.” she whispers. “One week left, then it’s summer.”

“4 days” he corrects.

“Better. But I’m really gonna miss you when you leave for vacation to Italy.”

“And you’re leaving for Poland.” He pulls her closer. “Wish we could leave at the same time, so we can be relatively close to each other.”

“Please write me. I’ll do the same. Wish you had your own phone. We could text if you did.”

“I’m gonna grab one. My mom and Stefano would never go for it, but I can ask my Uncle Eric to get me one in his name, then I can pay him back.”

And hide it, just like the notebooks.

“That would be incredible! Not having a phone is such a foreign concept to me. Must be so hard, being cut off from the rest of the world. Everybody has one. God, your parents are so strict.”

If only she knew. “Yeah, they are.”

“Well.” When the song finally ends, she stands with her body against his for another moment. “We’ll be upperclassmen. As juniors. Maybe they’ll ease up.”

“Maybe. Wanna go outside?”

She smiles again. She knows what that actually means. “Sure, we can do that.”

Outside, the night is cold, he gives Mia his jacket. Others were out here talking, or sneaking a smoke, or a joint. Or…

He steers clear of the smokers and stoners. Not worth being forced to leave the country before he’s ready. He leads Mia far enough away, in the shadows where they can be more serious about kissing, so he can touch her breasts.

And just as he’s thinking maybe, she says,

“We need to stop.”

Her heart was pounding under his hands, her breathing uneven. He thinks if they’d just had another minute, even just another 30 seconds.

“I don’t want to stop.” She takes his hand. “But we need to.”

“I like you a lot, Mia.”

“I like you too. But we should really go back inside. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not.” Frustrated, sure, with a hard on from where his body had reacted to where she’d touched him, but… “I understand. It’s just...I think about you all the time. And I want you.”

Her eyes shine like the river, he thinks as she looks back at him. So soft, so blue, almost like water.

“I do too, about you. That’s why we should really go back inside. My grandma was my age when she got pregnant with my mom.”

“Wow.”

“I know. So let’s go back inside.”

He wasn’t even thinking about that--not even in the maybe he should category. He has no idea what that says about him, knowing she was, but he wasn't.

He still has the best time. When he walks Mia back to her door, he gets a very serious kiss for his troubles.

He figures when he writes everything down in his journal, it’s like he’ll get to relive it all over again. Plus, it’ll be an entry where nothing bad happened, nothing to do with tests, homework, or any of Stefano’s abuse.

“Thanks for the lift.” he says to Kaye, giving Tad a high five.

He goes towards the door, wishing he could just walk, thinking about Mia, and that kiss. But then he’d miss his curfew.

Maybe he can risk a snack--not permitted after a meal--because after all the dancing he just did, he’s starving. Maybe a sandwich, but he’s almost positive Stefano has someone counting all their food inventory.

Better he doesn't, keep his nose clean, he decides. Stefano’s been really coming hard on him the past few days. Not hitting him or shoving him, but snapping. Like a rabid dog about to attack.

When Will unlocks the door and goes inside, he’s greeted by Stefano DiMera, practically frothing at the mouth.


	9. Chapter 9

“You missed your curfew.” Stefano stands in the foyer, a glass in his hand, eyes cold.

“It’s eleven thirty.”

“Eleven thirty  _ nine. _ Or have you forgotten how to tell time?”

“No, sir.”

“Time is essential. Following the rules is essential. Leaving the house for frivolous purposes is a privilege, not a right.”

“Yes sir.” Two years, two months, he repeats silently, like a mantra.

“ _ My  _ time is essential. Do you honestly believe I don’t have other things I could be doing, besides waiting on you because you can’t follow the rules?”

Will’s instincts tell him to keep his eyes lowered, because he can feel something there. Maybe it’s the drink, or whatever’s been brewing underneath the surface the past few days.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would take me so long to drop off our dates--”

He’s expecting the shove, even expecting it to knock him back.

“I don’t want your excuses. You’re old enough to be responsible for your time, and respecting the house rules. But clearly, you’re still the same irresponsible and disrespectful grandchild. You’re grounded for two weeks. Your phone is gone, as is your gaming console, and outside privileges, including baseball.”

That gets Will’s attention. “Sir, we’re in the national league. We’re supposed to take the championship for the second year. We--”

Now there’s smug on top of it. “That just goes to show how your irresponsibility affects others around you, not just you. You’re a screw up, William. Always was, always will.”

And then, Will sees it. It hits him like a ton of bricks.

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’re jealous of me, because I might actually be good at something, stand on my own two feet. So now you’ll just look for any excuse you can find, so you can tear me apart. You--”

It’s only because he’s so blinded by his own anger he doesn’t see the backhanded slap coming.

“And that’s another two weeks.” Tossing the drink, Stefano grabs Will by his shirt, shiving him against the door.

And right then, Will knows in his heart he’s right. 9 minutes, as an excuse to take what he loves away from him. He clenches his fists at his sides.

“Were you drinking?”

“No, sir.”

Stefano slams him again. “Don’t even think about lying to me. Were you partaking in drugs?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you sneak off to fornicate with that trash?”

“No I didn’t. And Mia’s not trash.”

“Just more trash, and you’re naive enough to not see how she’s trying to butter you up for money. There’s no way in hell you’d come in here late, half decent, unless you fucked her.”

Only his tie and suit jacket are missing. Just like everyone else at the dance. “I didn’t take drug, drink, or have sex. All I did was go to a school dance.”

The punch to the stomach knocks the wind out of him, but he braces himself beforehand.

“What kind of man are you, then, if you can’t get it up for McCormick trash?”

“Stefano!”

He doesn’t even turn to look at his stepdaughter's frantic calling. “Shut up. I’m occupied.”

“Allie’s sick. She’s puking her guts out.”

“So handle it yourself!”

“She’s throwing up and hysterical. I need your help!”

“Oh I’ll do something.” Stefano throws Will out of his way, stomping up the stairs.

Will watches, nearly emotionless, as he watches Stefano use his fists, as Sami shouts and tries to hit back. Let them beat each other to a pulp, he thinks, like another night in Fight Club. All he cares about is moving past them to get to Allie.

He starts walking up the stairs, thinking, but the shouting and hitting has Allie coming out of her room. White as a sheet, she covers her ears.

“Stop it! Please stop it! I can’t take it anymore!”

This time Allie gets her own backhanded slap. The second he hears his sister cry out, watching her fall, something inside Will snaps. He charges up the stairs in a fury, burning him up from the inside. Even as Stefano turns to meet the assault, Will keeps throwing the punches.

“Have one right back!”

The muscles he’s built up over the past year or so are what’s driving him, along with the sick satisfaction of seeing the genuine shock on Stefano’s face, and the blood spilt.

Everyone’s screaming, but Will can’t stop, won’t stop, until the man that had made him curse his entire existence, is down for the count.

Somewhere he hears Allie calling for help, calling an address. He feels Sami’s fingernails scratch his face, but he still can’t stop.

Then he’s suddenly falling, tumbling down the stairs. His elbow hits something like a rock on cement. He feels a crack, then pain as his head hits something else.

He tries to stand in his daze, manages to stay on his knees, lifting his fists again to defend himself.

But Stefano doesn’t attack again. No one’s standing on the stairs. And Allie’s not screaming anymore.

Immediately understanding how much worse that could be, he forces himself up, only to find himself falling again. There’s something seriously wrong with his ankle, he suddenly understands, and starts crawling.

He made it to the bottom steps when he sees Stefano drag Allie out--across the floor, by the hair.

She doesn’t struggle or cry, or even move, and for the first time, Will’s suddenly very scared for his sister's life.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on her, you bastard.”

“This is your fault.” His voice is completely devoid of emotion, as Stefano walks down the stairs. “Forget shipping you off. What I have planned, you’ll wish that’s what I had done.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for this chapter. I just typed it up as fast as I could, so I could get past it.

Stefano stands over Will, angling his head as he studies him. “You get your looks, lack of ambition, and poor attitude from your mother. And you’re not even biologically my grandson.”

“Thank god for that.”

The kick Will receives is almost natural.

“But in the eyes of the law, I’m your step grandfather, and someone nobody would dare go up against in Salem. All actions have consequences, and now it’s your turn to pay for those actions.”

“You and your fucking consequences can go to hell. What the hell did you do to Allie?”

“Not me, William. You.”

Sirens wail from a distance. All Will can think is, thank God. Allie called 911. It had to have been her.

“You can’t hide anymore.”

Stefano chuckles, shaking his head as he sets down the first aid kit. “I should’ve known only someone as idiotic as you could never be my grandson. Samantha!”

“Yes, Stefano?”

“Do exactly what I told you.”

Stefano opens the door, taking a deep breath, then steps outside.

“Over here!” Outside, Stefano gestures for the police cruiser. He makes his voice sound horrified, even shocked.

It doesn’t surprise him in the least to see Police Commissioner Abe Carver come out of the car. After all, Stefano practically has the man in his back pocket.

No reason to not exaggerate, Stefano thinks, making like he’s struggling to not panic.

“Stefano, what happened? You--”

“We need an ambulance immediately.”

“Will...I don’t even. He attacked his mother. He punched her. Then his poor little sister Allie. I went to stop him, and we just couldn’t stop fighting. He fell. I had to knock her out. My grandson is hurt, Abe. I think he went crazy.”

“Wait right here.” He signals to one of the other officers.

That’s right, a 911 call from the DiMera mansion warrants the whole force, Stefano thinks, shaking his head, limping after Abe towards the house.

“Abe, Abe!” Sami holds a limp Allie in her arms. “We need an ambulance for my daughter! Please!”

“It’s on it’s way right now. My god, Will.” Abe crouches down. “What the hell did you do? Are you on something?”

“No, he beat up his mom again, and started on Allie. I tried to stop him.”

“How can you say that?” Weeping, Sami rocks Allie back and forth. “Stefano has never laid a hand on me or my children a day in his life! What the hell have you done, Will?”

In utter shock, Will can only stare back. “She’s lying. She’s covering for him.”

“He just got back from the school dance. I waited for him--Allie was puking her guts up. I was trying to look after her, and I said I was busy. He didn’t want to hear it. He went crazy, and hit me.” She brings a shaking hand to her face.

Holding onto his bad arm, Will feels a part of him die.

“What the hell is wrong with you? How can you call yourself a mother?”

“He’s always been jealous of Allie, but I never knew...” Sami pulls Allie closer, starting to cry.

Two EMTs finally come in.

“Go for them first.” Abe gestures upstairs.

Stefano stands up. “Have them transported to the hospital.”

“I’ll make sure you’re with them.” Abe says.

Stefano nods. “I have to talk to you, Abe. Outside. He keeps saying he hasn’t taken anything.” he says to the EMTs. “I don’t know if I believe him. He’s taken before.”

“Liar!”

“Will, I need you to calm down.”

Will recognizes one of the EMTs--a friend of Kaye’s. “I swear on my life I didn’t do this.”

“Alright, just let us take care of you.”

Will can only close his eyes. “I didn’t do it.”

“You can’t administer any pain medication.” Stefano says as he walks out with Abe. “Do a tox screen. You can’t trust anything he says.”

“I don’t take drugs.” He can’t even cry, just beg in desperation. “Or drink. They’d kick you off the team if you do. We’re supposed to be in the National League.”

It just hurts all over again, so much so it throws him back to that first December 23rd. But there’s some relief when they stabilize his leg.

They get him on the gurney, roll him out. Abe comes back with a grim face. “I have to arrest him.”

“Chief, no.” Kaye’s friend lays a hand on Will’s good shoulder. “He has a broken arm, maybe an elbow too. Regardless, it’s a huge sprain. He can’t put weight on it. He has a concussion, and is in shock. Where the hell are you going to take him?”

“It’s only procedure.” With that, Abe sticks out his chin. “He’s charged with three counts of assault.”

Will stares into Abe’s eyes as Abe cuffs him to the gurney. There’s no mercy to be found, no doubt. Just like Stefano always warned him about.

He tries anyway. “I didn’t do this.”

“Will, both Stefano and your mother are telling the same story. Your sister is currently sedated, but I’ll be asking her as well tomorrow.” Abe closes a hand over Will’s, like it’s supposed to be some sort of comforting gesture. “We’ll get you the help you need.”

They’re finally outside. Neighbors all over. Will can hear them all. Who the hell’s going to believe him now? Nobody here. Not one.

He looks up at the sky. Same ones he’d seen at the dance with Ashley. But nothing’s the same as it was just a few hours before. Nothing will ever be the same again.

He hears the sound of running feet, cringing. Stefano, back to finish the job.

Nobody’s going to raise a hand to stop him.

But it’s Kaye who grabs his hand.

“Will, listen to me. You’re going to be okay.”

“I didn’t hurt Allie. I’d never hurt our mom.”

“Of course not. Why the hell is he handcuffed?”

“Step back, Kaye.”

“Chief, what the hell is going on. I dropped him off almost a whole hour ago. He and my son just got back from the dance at their high school. What the hell happened to you, Will?”

“He hit her again. Went after me first, then went after her. This time he turned his fist on Allie. I couldn’t let him get away with it. I tried to make him stop.”

It’s in Kaye’s eyes that Will can see what he didn’t in Chief Carver’s. She believes him.

“Where the hell is Stefano DiMera?”

“Going to the hospital, along with his step daughter and step granddaughter. Believe me, I don’t like this either, Kaye. But Will’s just been charged with assault. He needs medical attention, then we’re sending him to Statesville.”

“Abe, you know this kid. He’s not capable of something like this.”

Abe doesn’t budge. “I know Stefano and Sami, too. Both of them gave the same statement. I don’t have a choice, Kaye. He’s already been charged, and Judge Donovan gave the order. Step aside.”

“Like hell I am. I’m an EMT, and I’m going with him. Someone has to be in this kid’s corner.” Kaye gets in the back of the ambulance, helping load the gurney. “What’s his status?”

Will reaches for Kaye’s hand. “He’s a monster.” he manages to say as the doors shut.

“Who is?”

“Stefano DiMera. Both him and my mom are monsters. Please don’t let them hurt Allie.”

“Don’t worry about that. Easy. Let us handle it.”

“Uncle Eric.” Someone believes him, Will thinks, closing his eyes again. Someone. It gives him hope that hurts even more than his arm. 

“Tell Uncle Eric. Call Uncle Eric and tell him what happened. Please.”

“I will. Don’t worry.”

“He has to take care of Allie. I can’t protect her anymore.”

He feels tears threatening to fall when Kaye strokes his face, so he turns his face away, letting himself drift off.


	11. Chapter 11

It’s all a blur. The sirens, the lights. The voices.

He keeps his eyes shut, it hurts less when he doesn’t open them.

More voices talking a mile a minute, when they take him out of the ambulance, get him in the ER. He can hear Kaye’s voice--Kay didn’t leave him--rattling off his BP, and other things he can’t make out.

Not that he cares either way.

He’s freezing. When did it get so cold?

He wants so badly to fall asleep. He wants his baseball. Something to bring him comfort.

His own mother had lied, the woman that’s supposed to love him, look out for him, completely threw him under the bus. He doesn’t even know where she, or Stefano, even are. Maybe they’re at the hospital--but they're definitely not handcuffed like he is.

Maybe they went here because, for the first time Will can remember, Stefano actually hit his mom in the face. And Will knows why, too. He did it because he’d planned to lie about it all along. They were completely prepared to let Will take the fall for hitting his own mom.

And Allie.

His eyes suddenly open, his cuffs rattling as he tries sitting up. “Allie. He hurt Allie.”

“Easy, Will.” Kaye puts a hand on his wrist in reassurance, as well as to take his pulse. “We have to get you into an X-ray.”

“He hit her. He hurt her. She tried calling for help, and I tried to stop him because I heard her. He pushed me down the stairs, then he dragged her out by her hair, and drugged her. You gotta tell me how bad she’s hurt. Where is she?”

“I can find out.” Kaye promises. “I got in touch with Eric on the way, like you asked me. He’s on his way. And I called in a few favors. We’re gonna have Rex take care of your arm and ankle. He’s the best.”

“We made it to the national league. He said I was late by 9 minutes coming home. Grounded. Baseball gone.”

“Jesus.” Kaye scrubs a hand over his face, taking a breath. “You need to tell the cops everything you just told me.”

“Tried. Don’t believe me. Just like he always said. He’s God. I’m an ant.”

“Don’t ever say anything like that again.” Kaye leans in so they’re practically face to face. “Don’t lose your strength, Will. Look right at me. I believe everything you told me, and I’m going to do everything in my power to help you. First, we have to deal with what we can at the moment. We need to fix you up.”

“They’re going to send me to Statesville. I need you to look out for Allie. She’s not gonna have anyone but Uncle Eric. And they don’t even let him come around that often.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Will looks around the room, with only a curtain to block everything out, the sounds of the ER pon the other side. “You need to get inside the mansion when they’re not there. Take my house hey. In my pocket.”

“Why?”

“I wrote everything down. I’ve been doing it for a while now. Notebooks. Behind the vent over my desk. They have to believe me if it’s all written down.”

“How long--” Kaye stops herself as the curtain’s pulled away. “Say cheese.” But she slides a hand into Will’s suit pants pocket, discreetly grabbing the key.

They take him for his x ray--with one cop keeping an eye on everything.

After, they wheel him back, but this time it’s an actual room with a door that closes. And the cop’s still outside.

The doctor comes in. “Hello, Will. Long time no see.” He picks up Will’s chart. “Let’s have a look here.” He narrows his eyes, then aims them at Kaye. “Why hasn’t he gotten any pain medication?”

“His grandfather says he might be on drugs. He isn’t, but they’re refusing to give him anything until they get the tox screen back.”

“I just saw it. It’s clean. Damnit--I’m sorry, Will.”

He forces the door open, yelling for a nurse, barking orders like a drill sergeant.

In a few minutes, he’s on cloud nine.

“His fingers have gone numb.” Kaye whispers. “He’s cold at the elbow.”

“I can see the chart. Alright, Will, I have some good news for you. You don’t have a broken ankle. Just a really bad sprain, and a few torn muscles. We’re gonna continue the ice treatment, and you just need to rest and elevate it, and we’ll give you a boot for compression. I’ll give you a list. We’ll start you on PT in a few days.”

Still floating, Will smiles. “Then what’s the bad news?”

“There’s three bones in your arm, and you hit a triple. Your elbow’s broken. I’m going to put a splint on it, to help with the pain, so it’s stable. Keep it elevated over your heart as much as possible. Once the swelling’s gone down, we’ll hit them with sound waves, get you a cast. You might need a few pins and screws, but I’ll take another look once you’re back. ”

Somewhere in the haze, Will smiles. “Not so bad so far.”

“That’s the right attitude. If it’s surgery you need, I’m told I’m the best. Plus, you’re still young, and got some really good muscle tone. We’ll have you back in shape in no time. Understand?”

“They going to let me out of Statesville for that?”

That’s where Rex’s smile fades. “Doctor’s orders. First I need to give you a once over. I’d say your handsome face needs some help too, while I’m at it.”

“He didn’t break my nose, not this time. I know how that feels.”

Immediately those eyes light up like a fire. “That’s good news. Any double vision?” Rex starts, and his hands, gentle, move to Will’s face.

Will hears shouting--Uncle Eric--and tries to get up.

“Don’t get up.” Kaye orders. “Let Rex help you. I’ll be right outside the door.”

“Tell him about Allie.” Through the haze, it all comes back to him. “Find out about Allie. He hurt her, and I tried to stop him. I’m stronger than I used to be, but he still got the best of me.”

“Who?” as he works, Rex signals for Kaye to leave.

“Stefano. December 23rd. Not last year, the one before that, when he broke my nose.”

Kaye steps out, finding Eric shouting at a cop.

“Come on, Joe. You know Eric. He’s Will’s uncle.”

“I’m just doing my job, following orders. Nobody but medical personnel goes in there. What was I supposed to do?”

Kaye just shakes her head, taking Eric’s arm. “We need to talk.”

“What the hell is going on here? How badly is Will injured? They wouldn’t even let me see Allie.”

“I can only tell you what I know. I’m going to tell you what Stefano and your sister told the cops, and what Will himself told me. And I can tell you right now I believe Will’s story.”

She doesn’t sugarcoat anything, watching Eric brace himself against the wall, face pale.

“I knew it. How could I have been so blind? They’re just kids! How long--”

“I don’t know. You don’t think Will’s making it up?”

However pale his face is right now, the eyes are still fierce. “Not even for a second.”

“They’re sending him to Statesville, the prison here in Salem, after he’s been treated.”

“They can’t do that--it’s Will.” He sets his jaw, breathing through his mouth. “He could do it, he has the connections. Can I post the bail?”

“I don’t know. Eric, Will gave me the house key. He asked me to get into the DiMera mansion, to grab some hidden notebooks. He’s been writing it all down. I don’t know if that helps, but I’ll see to it I get them.”

“Can you---I know how much it is to ask.”

“He’s counting on me. He’s a good kid, Eric. My son’s best friend, and from what I’m seeing, he’s been knocked around by that bastard for years.”

Eric wipes the tears from his face. How can he cry now, he wonders, when he’s so pissed?

“And Allie?”

“I got the impression this is the first time Stefano’s gone after Allie.”

“They won’t let me in to see her. Won’t tell me a damn thing. Not even her room number. Doctor’s orders. No visitors.”

“Concussion, bruised cheek, and a lot more bruising. I’m sorry.” She says when Eric’s eyes look even more devastated. “She was drugged at the house. I know a lot of the nurses here, and just got an update. She’s fine, but asleep.”

She looks back at the cop, moving Eric a few steps away. “I’m going to make sure Stefano and Sami are still here. They both had some serious injuries to the face.”

Eric clenches his hands into fists, knuckles going white. “I wouldn’t mind giving a few myself.”

“I understand.” She looks back again. “I didn’t want to leave Will by himself until you could take my place. I’m going to tell him you’re here, tell him Alli’s okay and sleeping. Then I’m going to get the journals. They’re going to take him away, Eric, and there’s nothing we can do about that. Go to the cops, tell them what I just told you. I’ll come right back with the journals. Here in Chicago, not Salem.”

“You’re a good person, Kaye.”

“I’m a mom. Trust me when I say that kid in there needs one badly. Try to reassure him when they show up to take him to Statesville.”

Eric waits, paces, and wakes up an old friend, one of the best lawyers he knows, for advice.

He takes the names of two attorneys he’s given, reluctantly taking the advice to not call them this early in the morning to heart.

He makes a mental checklist. Cops, lawyer, maybe CPS. And a very colorful conversation with his twin sister.

When the doctor finally comes back out, Eric practically jumps all over Rex. “Is he okay? I’m his uncle. I’m Eric Brady.”

“I can’t tell you everything, because that would be against the law. I can tell you he’s been treated, and he’s as comfortable as he’s going to get.”

“Doctor?” Joe clears his throat. “I need to ask if he’s been cleared. The van to take him to Statesville is right outside.”

Rex clenches his hands. “What if I say no, and he needs to stay for observation?”

Joe suddenly gets very uncomfortable. “Then I have no choice but to tell you, sir, that his grandfather said he'd see to it he’s cleared by another doctor. I don’t like it anymore than you, but the kid attacked his mom and his sister.”

“That’s nothing more than an outright lie.”

Joe's face goes tight, but he doesn’t look Eric in the eye. “That’s the official statement--from Stefano and his mom. The law says he has to go to Statesville until his trial. Now I need you to sign off, or I’m ordered to inform Stefano. Either way, he needs to be cleared.”

Will feels so much better. Maybe it’s just the drugs, or the splint, but he feels good enough to where he lets himself doze off on the gurney.

And comes to again when a nurse and another cop wakes him up to get him into a wheelchair. When they roll him out of the room, Eric comes right over to him, dropping down.

“Will.”

“Eric, you can’t--”

“Shut the hell up, Joe, or I swear to god I’ll scream police brutality.” he snaps back at him as he takes in Will’s banged up face. “I’ve known you since your family first came to Salem, Joseph Bernardi, and not once have I ever been as disappointed in you as I am now.”

“I didn’t--”

“You don’t have to say a single thing.” Stroking Will’s face, Eric cuts Will off. “I know you, Will.”

“Watch out for Allie.”

“I will.”

“Promise. Don’t let him anywhere near her.”

“I swear to God, you understand? He won’t ever lay a hand on her, whatever I have to do. I need you to hang on for me, kid. I’m getting you a damn good lawyer. Kaye and me, your grandparents, and people who know you, we’re all going to do everything we can so you don’t spend a second longer than you have to in that wretched place.”

“It’s just the jail. That damn mansion was a prison in ways real jail will never be.”

“We have to take him, Eric. Move back.”

“I believe you, Will. I believe in you. I need you to believe me when I swear on my life I’m going to fix this.”

Eric pats Will’s good shoulder, straightens up and moves back.

As Eric watches them wheel Will around the corner, Eric turns to look at the wall, fishing his ringing phone out of his pocket.


	12. Chapter 12

Allie wakes up in the dark, moaning, lifting a hand to her pulsing face. The light switches on, and Stefano stands beside her bed.

Hospital, she understands. Stefano’s face has bruises, a really nice shiner. And a swollen lip.

His eyes are harsh, and angry.

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he says. “When the cops show up to take your statement, you’re going to tell them your brother hit you. Hit your mother, knocked her down. He hit you. You don’t remember anything after that. You heard your mother screaming for me, but you puked and got dizzy. Do you understand?”

Be careful, Will’s always told her. Be careful, but be smart about it.

“Yes, sir.”

“You saw me fighting with Will, and got scared. You grabbed the phone to call for help. He got past me and hit you again. That’s all you remember. Is that understood?”

He actually did that to you. I couldn’t be more proud of him. “Yes, sir.”

He leans in closely, her heart pounding like a drum. “Want to know what will happen if you even think about saying anything else? You think you hurt now? That will look like heaven very shortly. Your mother and I already told the cops everything Will did. They wouldn’t dare not believe us. Will’s on his way to prison very shortly.”

“No--”

He claps a hand over her mouth, squeezing slightly. “Your brother is gone. There’s something wrong with him, with his brain. He’s probably taking drugs. He attacked his own family, and he’ll be locked away until he’s eighteen. He’ll have no contact with you, or you with him. He won’t be welcome in the DiMera mansion again.”

She nods.

“Very bad things happen to little girls who don’t do what they’re told. Especially when her grandfather has so many friends in the hospital she’s being treated at. You don’t even want to think about how bad it can actually get.”

He releases her, taking a step back, with a sadistic smile. “Look on the bright side. Now you’re an only child. You’ll be our sole focus. Think long and hard about that.”

He walks towards the door. “Oh, and you can forget about your uncle visiting. The nursing staff are under orders to keep him gone. His influence has been very detrimental. Wouldn’t surprise me if that’s where Will got his drugs. Get some rest. You’ll be going home in the morning. I’ll go sit with your mother, then get some rest of my own.”

When he closes the door, Allie holds herself very still. She can hear herself panting, causing a buzz in her ears. Yoga classes always talk about breathing. Allie tries to remember what exactly it is they say.

Because she has to get the hell out of here. Get the hell away from here. She can’t go home, not with Stefano. There’s no way in hell she’s stepping foot in the DiMera mansion alone, as an only child.

His breath speeds up again, and tears threaten to fall, but she tries as hard as she can. He said Will would go to jail. She has to do something. But if the cops believe him and her mom, why would they believe her?

And her face hurts. She just wants to go to sleep, make it all go away.

But it’s not going away, and she can’t sleep at all. Maybe the cops won’t believe her, but Uncle Eric definitely would. Maybe.

She gets up slowly, creeping and feeling her way across the room until she finds the bathroom. She turns on the light, closing the door until it’s just cracked open.

There’s no clothes, or her shoes. No phone in the room. He took them. He would’ve thought ahead. That's what Stefano DiMera does.

But that’s what she does too, Allie reminds herself. First thing that comes to mind: get your hands on a phone.

She goes to the door, cracking it open as well. More light, some noise, but not a lot. Still largely quiet. She has no idea what time it is--of course he’d confiscated her watch--but it has to be really late at night. Or really early in the morning.

Heart pounding, she slips out of the room, barefoot and in nothing but a hospital gown, running across the hall, sneaking into another room.

Two beds, only one of them occupied. Another kid. Younger. And a phone on the table next to the bed where he’s sleeping. She takes the phone as far away from the bed as humanly possible, sitting with it on the floor, and calls Uncle Eric. No one answers, and she wants to cry when she gets the answering machine.

But she has another number memorized. Uncle Eric’s cell phone. If that doesn’t work…

“This is Eric.”

“Uncle Eric.” As she had so many times before with Will, Allie whispers. “Please help us.”

“Allie! Oh god, Allie. They wouldn’t let me in. Are you okay?”

“Nothing’s okay at all. You have to help us. Stefano said Will’s going to jail. He said I couldn’t say anything or it would get worse. It wasn’t Will, it was Stefano.”

“I know. I know, sweet girl. Tell me your room number, and I’ll find a way inside. I’m here in the ER.”

“You here. Y-you’re here.” Tears do fall, forced out by hope she doesn’t dare let herself feel. “You’re here.”

“I’m here, and I’m coming to get you. Just tell me your room number.”

“I’m not in there. He took my clothes and shoes. He had the phone removed. I went into another room. Don’t find me! Everyone will just follow his orders. They’ll make you go away, and they’ll tell him. I’m going to go down the stairs.”

“Allie--”

“I can reach the stairs. I’ll walk down.”

“Do you know which one?”

“I’m in room...” She turns towards the light. “Room 4718. Probably pediatrics, cause it’s a kid.”

“Okay. I’ll be at the staircase. If you’re not there in 5 minutes, I’m coming to get you.”

“I’m coming right now.”

She almost leaves the phone on the floor, and just up and runs. But she manages to stop herself, thinking it over. If a nurse comes in, the phone should be back where she found it. And if she just runs out? She’d definitely get caught.

She puts the phone back, freezing when the little kid stirs, whimpering in his sleep. At the door, she hears the sound of footsteps passing by, and waits, until they finally fade away before opening the door slightly.

Then she opens it wider so she can ease herself out enough to look up and down the hallway. She sees the sign for the stairs--it’s so far away! She doesn’t have a choice, she needs to run. But she also needs to be quiet.

She hears a bell go off, and like a runner hearing the gun go off, takes off down the hall. The stairway door, heavy, feels like it’s pushing against her, but she makes her way through, and keeps going.

Someone’s coming. Stefano could come back. They’d drag her back, they’d tell him. He’ll drug her again. Hit her.

She makes it all the way down, completely out of breath, but there’s no sign of Uncle Eric. Drained and desperate, she sits on the stairs, shaking.

Maybe Stefano got to Uncle Eric. Hurt him. Made him go away. Maybe Stefano--

The door opens, and Allie immediately covers her mouth to stop herself from screaming. And Uncle Eric goes right to her, gathering her up in his arms.

“Oh, Allie, sweet girl.” Pulling back, he looks at her face, the shiner, the bruise on her cheek. “That son of a bitch. Here, put this on.”

He takes off his sweater. “Keep the hood up. We’re walking--not running--walking, nice and easy, towards the exit. There’s not a lot of people, and we’re just walking out, keep walking to my car. It’s in the ER parking lot, but once we’re outside, we’re free.”

“You came. You really came.”

“Of course I came. But we really have to go. Hold my hand, and don’t look up. Just walk. No talking, and don’t stop moving. Are you ready?”

Nodding, Allie grabs his hand.

They walk, Allie in a sweater, barefoot, in an ugly hospital gown. And at 2 in the morning, no one even does a double take.

Once they’re outside, Eric slides an arm around Allie’s waist. She’s growing like a weed. A weed he hasn’t seen in weeks.

“Should’ve given you shoes.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. How much farther?”

“Not much at all. We’re okay, we’re okay.” But his voice has started to shake, and Allie can hear it. “We’re going to get to the car, and we’re going to the cops.”

“No! They’re in Stefano’s back pocket. They’ll throw the book at Will.”

“Not the Salem police. The Chicago police. And we’ll make them believe us, Allie. Kaye--Mrs. Stevens is going to help.”

When her knees go weak, she staggers. “Mrs. Stevens is helping?”

“That’s right. I’m going to call him once we get in the car, tell him you’re with me. He’s grabbing Will’s journals.”

“What journals?”

Doing his best to stay out of the light, Eric keeps pulling the kid forward. “I’ll explain everything.”

“Was he hurt? Will?”

“Yes, he was. But what’s important is he’s going to be okay. And we won’t let them keep him in prison. I’m getting him a damn good lawyer, first thing. Tell the cops everything. No one will ever hurt you again, sweet girl. I swear on my life.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me too. There’s my car.”

Maybe his hands are shaking as he unlocks the car, as he helps Allie inside. But his mind has never been as clear as it is now.

Stefano DiMera will never so much as lay a finger on his niece again, whatever Eric has to do to make that happen. He fishes out his phone as he gets behind the wheel.

“Kaye. I have Allie. I’m taking her to the Chicago PD.”

“How did you--nevermind. I have the journals. I’ll meet you there.”

Not a lot of traffic, Eric thinks as he’s careful to stay under the limit. Nobody would be looking for them, not yet. They’re fine, completely fine, everything is fine.

Unless they lock him up for kidnapping and reckless endangerment of a child.

He reaches out to squeeze Allie’s hand, reassuring himself as much as the little girl. “I'm not going to ask anything right now, because I want you to save it for the cops. That way they don’t think we’re conspiring or making it up.”

Inside the sweater, Allie’s face looks so small, and pale. “What if they won’t listen?”

“Then we’ll just have to make them.” They have to.

He drives straight to the police station, parking. No one else is in the visitor’s, he notes, which makes him wonder briefly if that’s a good omen or a bad one.

“Just tell them the whole truth, Allie. Tell them everything, and it’ll all be okay.”

“He made us lie for him all the time. We were forced to lie to you all the time.”

“He’s not here to do that now.”

Once again he takes her hand, and they walk in.

The second Eric and Allie walk inside, a woman walks out. Allie squeezes his, hard.

She looks exhausted, Eric thinks, and her suit looks like she pulled an all-nighter in it. He pauses, watching them come in--a man in sneakers and washed out jeans. A girl with a smashed up face, and no shoes.

He can’t see the color of her eyes, but knows they’re assessing the both of them.

“Need some help?”

Allie speaks up before Eric can. “Are you a cop?”

“I am. Are you in trouble?”

“We’re in serious trouble.” Blue, Eric notes. “Do you have any identification on you?”

She lifts her eyebrows in surprise, but she reaches into her pocket, taking out her badge.

“Detective Hope Williams. Come on in, and you can tell me what’s going on here.” She gives Allie a look that makes Eric shake with hope. “Looks like you could use a drink. Whaddaya say?”


	13. Chapter 13

Detective Hope Williams assumes the exhausted man is the girl’s father. But she lets that go. She knows better than to assume anything.

She also doesn’t have to assume the fear. They both do enough for the whole precinct. Nor does she have to assume someone had hit the girl, and put her in the hospital. She can see her face, as well as the hospital gown.

She leads them through a lobby, waving off a question from the counter, and keeps walking.

She stops at a vending machine. “What kind can I get you?”

“A uh...a 7Up?”

“Alright.” She looks at Eric. “Want some ridiculously bad coffee, or a cold drink?”

“Pepsi. I have change.”

“Put your money away.” She slides a few dollars in the slot, grabs the 7Up and two Pepsis.

She pulls up a few chairs from nearby desks, sits at another one. “Take a seat. Why don’t you start by telling me your names?”

“I can’t tell her. Not yet.”

Eric shifts to drape an arm around Allie’s shoulders. “Allie--”

“It’s okay.” Hope assures them. “Start by telling me who you hurt you.”

“My stepgrandfather.”

“Has he done it before?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” The man kisses the girl’s head. “Honey.”

“It used to just be a slap here and a slap there. Or pulling my hair. I never told...my brother. I knew if he tried to stop him, it would just get worse for him.”

“Where is your brother?”

When Allie shakes her head, Eric cups her chin. “Detective Williams can’t help if you don’t talk to her. Remember what I said? Everything.”

“You left the hospital barefoot.” Hope comments in that same tone. “And without your clothes. You had to have been so scared.”

“I dialed 911, and he took the phone away from me, and hit me across the face. He had already hit me before because I threw up. I was scared because he was so angry. I could hear him going after Wi--my brother. He just came back from a school dance. I don’t know why it made my grandfather so mad, but he was. My mom went to bed, but he stayed up. I just knew he was going to hurt my brother when he got home.”

“Does he do it often?”

“He hits both my mom and my brother.”

“I’m not her father, I’m her uncle.” Eric says quickly. “I didn’t know about any of this until tonight. I know I should’ve, but…” He shakes his head. “Tell her everything.”

“When my brother came home, that’s when he started. He said my brother was late by nine minutes. Do you understand?” Passion springs into her voice. “9 minutes, and you would’ve thought Will shot someone in cold blood. He said he was grounded, no sports, which meant he couldn’t compete in the national league. He started accusing him of drinking and doing drugs, but he doesn’t! I know him. He said bad things about Will’s girlfriend. She’s really nice. Then he started saying stuff, shoving Will around, hitting him right in the gut.”

She clutches the soda can tightly. “He knows to only hit where you can’t see it. I don’t know why I bumped into my mom. I knew she wouldn’t do anything, but I still did. And that’s when I got sick, she got mad, she called out for my grandfather, he got mad. Then he came upstairs and hit me.”

Next to her, Eric is silent, shoulders shaking in anger.

“That’s when Will came upstairs, and hit Stefano. He just wanted to stop him from hurting me. He was defending me. You can’t get arrested for that, right? You shouldn’t be. They got into a really bad fight, hitting over and over, and Mom pushed and scratched up Will’s face, but Will didn’t stop. Then Stefano hit my mom across the face, and I went for the phone and called 911, I heard Will yell, and a loud thud. I think he fell down the stairs. Stefano came back in, hit me again, and he told my mom to grab the first aid kit. Made her hold me down because I fought him, and he drugged me.”

“That’s everything. That’s what happened.”

She sits back, closing her eyes for a moment, then opens them again, staring hard into Hope’s. Crosses her arms.

“Okay.” Carefully, Hope nods. “Did the cops show up?”

“They had to have, but he drugged me, and when I woke up in the hospital, there he was, waiting. He told me what he wanted me to say. That Will was the one that hit my mom, me, and Stefano. And if I didn’t say what he told me, he’d make things worse for me. No one would believe me if I said anything else, and Will was already being sent to prison. I’d be an only child. He took the phone away, told the nurses I couldn’t see anyone, and he left to get some rest. I think Mom’s in the hospital too.”

Hope files all the details, including the brother's name--Will--the grandfather being well connected with doctors. The brother’s an athlete--has to be baseball if he made the national league. High school. Older brother.

“Tell me about your mom.”

“He’s never hit her where you can see it, not until tonight. Sometimes she hits back, but it...” Her face suddenly goes red as she presses her lips together, begging Eric with her eyes.

“It’s okay. Just tell the whole truth, and it’ll all be okay.”

“I think they like it. I think she likes it. He buys her something pretty, and it’s like it never happened.”

She turns to Eric, burrowing. “I can’t tell you. I was so scared to say anything, but not saying anything would’ve been worse. Because once Will’s in college, I’ll be all alone. Did Stefano push him down the stairs?”

Eric nods. “But it’ll be okay. The boy’s not even sixteen.” he says to Hope. “He has a bad concussion, a broken elbow, and a very badly sprained ankle. The doctor wanted him to stay overnight, but...their grandfather knows people in the hospital there, and the cops are all in his back pocket, and my twin sister, and he’s friendly with almost everyone there. Like judges. They took that poor kid to Statesville, and he’s only fifteen. He’s hurt bad. He’s never been in trouble before. Talk to anyone you want, and they'll all say the same thing. Coaches, neighbors, teachers.”

“Why did the doctor sign him out?”

“Because the man that put him there said if he didn’t, Stefano would force another doctor to. Call him yourself. Dr. Rex Brady, Salem University Hospital.”

Hope makes another mental note. “Has your brother been put in the hospital by Stefano before?”

“He’s never let Will go before. Locked him in his room. Christmas. Remember, Uncle Eric? Not this one, the one before that.”

“Oh my God.” Eric closes his eyes. “Will wasn’t sick with the flu, and there wasn’t any skiing accident when you went on vacation.”

“We’d just come home from school. Last one before Christmas. Stefano came home early, and when we came inside, we heard Mom crying, and Stefano yelling. Will tried to stop me, but I ran back, and she was on the floor, and there was some blood, and he hit her, and I screamed for them to stop. And Will...”

She takes a long drink. “Before, he just made me go upstairs, or sat with me. Or if we were already in our rooms, I’d go in his room, and he’d let me stay in there until it was over. But this time, he tried to step in so Stefano would stop hurting her, and Stefano...”

She lets out a sob. “I kept yelling for them to stop, and he---Stefano looked at me, and I knew he was going to hit me. Will pushed me behind him, and tried to make him stop. He was hurt so badly, Ms. Williams. He kept hurting him over and over, kicking him, and all she did was stand there and watch! And Stefano had someone pick Will up, took him upstairs where he licked him in his room. I know I should’ve done something, but I was just so scared.”

“This is not your fault.” Paler than he used to be, Eric brings Allie’s clenched fists to his mouth, kissing them. “None of this is your fault.”

“He broke Will’s nose, and his eyes were swollen shut and black. His lips were swollen and all cut up. I snuck him food when I could, but he could barely eat anything.

“On Christmas Eve, the very next day, ”I heard Stefano come in, and after a few seconds I heard screaming, like he was being hurt again. And Stefano said Will had the flu. Contagious, and nobody was allowed to see him. Even though Grandma Marlena and John were coming over for Christmas. And when we were at the resort, we told people he was fooling around on his bike and fell. He had to stay in the room while we skied. And when we were back in town, we were supposed to say he had a skiing accident.”

She takes the tissue Eric hands her. “Call the resort if you don’t believe me. Call them. We’re there every year. They’ll tell you he showed up with black eyes and everything when we showed up. Talk to anyone near where we live, even his teachers. They'll all say he fell skiing.”

“What resort was it?”

“Joliet Nordic Ski Club. We’re there from December 26th to the 30th. Every year.”

“I went to visit Will on Christmas Eve.” Eric says. “My twin sister called, said he was sick, and that we had to move Christmas dinner to my place because he was contagious. I took him some chicken soup and a comic book I was going to sneak in--it was on their forbidden reading material list. Just a superhero comic, that’s all.”

When he feels like his throat is on fire, he takes a drink, breathing out the helpless anger. “They wouldn’t let me see him, and they left him by himself on Christmas while everyone else showed up for dinner. They recently cut me off from the kids. I don’t see them very often, because they’re always making excuses.”

“They said you didn’t want to see us, that you had other important things going on. We didn;t believe them, we really didn’t, but that’s what they told us. Stefano said you were a no good deadbeat.”

Eric manages to smile. “If only.” She kisses Allie’s cheek. “We have more evidence. A friend--mother of my nephew’s best friend is making her way here right now. She’s an EMT, heard Will got hurt, stayed with him at the hospital. Will gave her his house key, asked her to go grab some journals he hid. Said he wrote everything down. They sent him to prison, Detective Williams. They had to take him in a wheelchair. You’re supposed to help people. Help us now.”

“What’s the name of the friend grabbing the journals? I have to clear him with the officer at the front desk.” she says when they don’t say anything.

“Kaye Stevens.”

“One moment.”

She needs to call her lieutenant, Hope thinks. CPS. She needs to call Statesville and get the full name of the brother. Right now, she’ll just let it play out.

There’s no way in hell this kid is making this up.


	14. Chapter 14

When Hope comes back, she finds the girl resting her head on her uncle’s shoulder. She looks so small, so fragile.

“How did you get out of the hospital?”

“Snuck into another room to use the phone, called Uncle Eric. He was already here, but they wouldn’t tell him where I was because Stefano ordered them not to. I came downstairs, and that’s where we met up. He believes me, believes Will, because he said we had to tell the cops. Stefano’s going to hurt him too, if he’s given the chance.”

“Don’t waste another second worrying about that.” Eric tells her.

“If I’m going to help, I need both your names.” It’s going to take her two minutes to find Will with her call to Statesville, but she wants this little girl with the tired eyes to be the one to tell her. To trust her.

“Does that mean you believe me? Will you still believe me even when Stefano swears I’m lying?”

“If I didn’t believe you, I would’ve already started making calls. I’m a cop.” She smiles as she says it. “I could’ve found out your names easily, as well as your brother’s. But I didn’t, because I chose to believe you, and I want you to really listen when I say I do believe you.”

Allie looks at Eric, who nods. “You can trust her.”

“I’m Allison Horton. My brother is Will. My step grandfather is Stefano DiMera, and my mom is Samantha Brady. We live at the DiMera mansion in Salem Illinois. And I know he’s going to murder me once he finds out I’m not lying for him anymore.”

“He will never touch you or Will ever again. Didn’t I promise you I wouldn’t let that happen? An innocent man is in prison, Detective. I’m Eric Brady.”

“I have someone here to see you, Detective.” A uniformed officer lets Kaye in.

“Hey, Allie, let me take a look at you.” A canvas bag over her shoulder, Kaye crouches down. “You hurting anywhere?”

“My head hurts real bad, Mrs. Stevens. And my cheeks and eye too.”

“Aw, Allie, why didn’t you say something? I didn’t even ask. I should have something.”

“Don’t.” Kaye says as Eric starts searching his pockets. “I don’t know what they gave her while she was in the hospital. But I made a quick stop along the way.” He opens the bag, taking a frozen package out of it. “Should help with the bruising. Just hold that on your cheek. How many do you see?” He holds up three fingers.

“Three. I’m okay, Mrs. Stevens. I’ve felt much better since coming here.”

“Wonderful.” Kaye stands up, holding out a hand to Hope. “Kaye Stevens.”

“Detective Williams.”

“Well, Detective Williams, since I had Will’s key, as well as permission, I don’t think me going into his house, or his room qualifies as unlawful entry. But I’ll take whatever punishment that warrants.”

He pulls several journals out of his canvas bag. “I saw the first entry in the one called Number One. If you read this and do nothing to get Will out of there, and put Stefano DiMera behind bars, you don’t have a heart.”

Hope opens the first book, reading the first entry.

_ December 23rd _

When she’s finished, she picks another entry completely at random. Opens the second one, doing the same.

“Allie, did your grandparents visit you last summer?”

“Back in August, after our vacation just ended. They stayed with Eric. Used to be theirs, but they gave it to Uncle Eric and my mom. Mom wanted nothing to do with it, so Eric bought her out. We were there on the last day for a party on a boat. It was nice. And then...”

She leans towards Eric again, carefully drinking her 7Up. “Then after everyone was gone, Stefano got mad again. He hit Will in his gut--he likes hitting there because you can’t see it. He said Will embarrassed him because he was a bad sailor, and he just talked about baseball with John and ate too much like a slob. I don’t remember everything.”

“I’ve heard enough.”

Hope closes the book.

“If you had to stand in front of a judge, and swear on a Bible, would you be able to say everything again?”

“Can you get Will out of prison if I do?”

“I’m going to do everything I can on that. Ms. Stevens, do you remember a skiing accident Will had?”

“Yeah, two Christmases ago. A face plant, he told me himself. Oh no. No.” Kaye covers her face in shame. “He didn’t show up again until the beginning of the year--and he and my son Tad are best friends. He had a broken nose, but it was healing. I didn’t even think to question it. But that’s right when he asked me to help him be strong. Lift weights. Baseball, he said. I didn’t think to question that, either.”

“Told you.”

“Exactly.” Hope nods at Allie. “You absolutely did. Now Ms. Stevens has confirmed what you just said, as well as what your uncle said. I’m going to wake someone up at the Joliet Nordic Ski Club, see if I can’t add another nail to the coffin."

“We’re on the executive level. There’s a 24 hour maid and butler service. But I don’t remember the number.”

“I can get it. I have to talk to the police commissioner in Salem.”

Allie shakes her head, cringing against Eric. “He’s in Stefano’s back pocket, He’ll--”

“That may be so, Allie, but he’s an officer of the law, and I’ve had to work with him a few times. He can’t make this go away. Keep trusting me, but something else I have to do is going to be really, really hard. I have to call CPS.”

“They can’t take her away.” Eric wraps his arms around Allie. “I’m her uncle.”

“I’m going to push everywhere I can, but if I don’t call them, it’s going to make everything harder. You took a minor out of the hospital because you were both scared for the child’s safety and wellbeing. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Let me do my job, and keep trusting me to do that with Allie’s wellbeing my only priority.”

“Will.”

“He’s right next to you. I’m going to put you somewhere you can wait, maybe sleep. Can you please wait here, Ms. Stevens? I just have a few more questions.”

“Alright.”

“One last thing. Are the grandparents local?”

“Only technically.” Eric answers. “Years ago Sami wrote them off, and everyone just followed her lead. You’re asking if they’ll come, in case they won’t give them to me. They’ll come. They won’t even hesitate.”

“Okay. Let me show you to the waiting room.”

Once she has them settled, Hope goes to the break room, gets coffee, brings some over to Kaye. “As an EMT, I figure you can stomach coffee.”

“Thanks. My god. Allie. Seeing what he did to her, what he did to Will.”

“You showed up in response to the 911 call.”

“No. I wasn’t on shift, but I heard word, and very quickly. Those kids are practically family.” Sitting down, she rubs the back of her neck. “I went over to see if I could do anything, or help. They brought Will out. They cuffed him to the fucking gurney. They placed him under arrest, with three assault counts.”

Kaye drinks the coffee without wincing. “That’s even bigger bullshit. I took him, and my son, and their dates to the school dance. And it was no less than ten minutes later after dropping him off, and suddenly he’s attacking his mom? He’d never hit his mom, or Allie. He was so happy when I dropped him off, Detective. They had a good time.”

“Did they partake in any drinking?”

“No way. He’s an athlete. He’s serious as a heart attack about baseball, and a damn good player too. He’d never risk getting benched over having even one beer, not right before the national league. You read the notebook, for Christ sake.”

“Just clarifying, Ms. Stevens.”

Kaye holds up a hand, drinking more. “Sorry. I’m just all over the place right now. Will was completely sober, and happy. It was a really big date. A double date, Will and Tad, my son. His tox screen was clean. I was there when Rex was reading it--Dr. Brady, the surgeon who treated him. I’m pretty sure he still needs surgery on his elbow, and he absolutely should not have been released so soon, let alone to Statesville. Rex did not want to clear him--Will was supposed to be kept overnight. But Stefano’s not just his step grandfather, he has connections at that hospital. Rex had no choice.”

“You were with him?”

“In the ambulance.” Kaye confirms. “In the hospital, and stayed there. Neither him or his mom came down. Eric showed up. I called him, they definitely did not.”

“Tell me what Will said.”

Fueled by coffee, Kaye goes over everything she remembers, backtracking, adding more details.

“Okay. I might have to talk again later, but you can go home.”

“I’m going to wait with Eric and Allie. I just need to call my husband.”

Hope angles her head. “Husband? You and Eric aren’t together?”

“Huh?” The confusion clears in a second, laughing. “No. Happily married for 20 years. I got a kid. Used to work for the Bradys back when I was Will’s age, and well into my 20s. I’ve known Eric and Sami my whole life. Eric and I--and Eric and my husband--are all good friends.”

“Not with Sami Brady?”

Whatever humor there was, it leaks out of Kaye’s gaze. “We’re not in the same circles as Stefano DiMera and Sami. She’s the one that let that happen to her kids. She may be a victim too, but she’s the one that let her kids get hurt. And her son is hurt badly, scared, and in prison. She let that happen.”

She gets to her feet. “I’m waiting with them.”

Hope gives directions, then sits back for another moment. She’d just been on her way home, after a 16 hour shift. Just wanted to go home and sleep.

Now it looks like she’s going to be pulling an all nighter, with a full shift ahead of her.

She turns to the computer, does a check on Will Horton, his mom, his uncle, Kaye Stevens. 

She gets the phone number for the resort, and starts checking off her very long checklist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, where's Will? 
> 
> Don't worry we're getting back to him after this one.


	15. Chapter 15

Every time Will looks back on the absolute worst night of his life, it’s always the small things that stand out. The way the van smelled--metal, drenched in sweat, fear and desperation. The wheels on the road cry out in misery. The crushing loneliness.

Whatever it is Rex gave him for the pain only managed to barely keep it under wraps. He knows it’s there, knows it’s coming back, but he’s so numb--in body, in his mind, in his soul--to bother caring.

The guard’s eyes are hard, and cold. The driver doesn’t say anything. He’s just another prisoner to them. He found out later that the speedy transport, all by himself and at this early in the morning, was all because of Stefano’s influence.

“Got yourself pretty banged up, huh? Serves you right for beating the crap out of your mom and sister.”

And much later, like so many other things, he’d find out all that disgust in the guard’s eyes was at least partially due to the fact that Stefano DiMera had been the one to pay for a doctor to perform surgery on the guard’s daughter, free of charge, after getting into an accident for texting and driving.

He can’t even feel scared, or even dig underneath the numbness to be worried.

Until the tires sound suddenly change into threatening. And for the first time, he hears the gate slamming shut behind the van.

Pain stabs him in the gut, spreads all the way into his chest. And rocks come bearing down on it, sharp and pounding. Tears threaten to fall from the back of his eyes, and some part of him, a very naive part, tells him if he lets himself fall, if even one is seen, it’s all over for him.

“Welcome home, you bastard.”

The guard has to help him get out. If he even remotely felt sorry for the shaking boy with a splint and a boot, it’s nowhere to be seen.

He goes through a steel door, and a metal detector. He has to stand against a wall, lights blinding him, putting all his weight on his good foot. He gives up his name, birth date, and address.

They put him in a room, take his clothes. He’s unable to undress himself with a splint, so he has to endure all the humiliation of someone he doesn’t know stripping him, as well as strip  _ searching _ him.

They give him new clothes. Orange jumpsuit, consisting of a shirt, pants, and clogs--or actually one, because of his bad ankle. They had to put them on him.

They take him to another room, it’s basically exactly what he was imagining. Bars, bunk bed, a toilet.

“You’ll only get up when we tell you. Make your own bed, and wait until we escort you for breakfast. You’ll only eat what we give. Since you got your ass handed to you, you’ll be checked out in the infirmary before talking to the shrink here, who’s going to ask about your unimportant feelings. You’ll only do what you’re told, when you’re told. Give me any problems, and I’ll make you pay.”

The guard steps to the door. “Stefano DiMera’s a great man. You’re bacteria in a petri dish.”

He leaves. The door slides shut with a bang that hurt’s Will’s ears.

Then the lights promptly go out.

He limps, feeling around for a wall, hitting his shin against the side of the bed, crawling onto it as the shaking turns shuddering, as his breathing turns into quiet whimpering.

He tries to hold onto himself, but he can’t. He just wants to fall into a deep, deep sleep, but the pain finally breaks through.

He lets the tears fall. No one’s looking, or cares. The sobs crash through him, hurting his chest, his gut, his throat. But once they’re all dried up, so does the panic.

He lays there, body hurting, but spirit thoroughly crushed.

Just a few hours ago, he’d kissed a girl, watching the stars, dancing under the lights.

Now his life is officially over.

The darkness becomes a kind of solitude, comforting. He holds onto them with all his might, scared of what his life will be once the door opens again.


	16. Chapter 16

Hope Williams runs on fumes, two hours of sleep, and coffee. She makes her case to her Lieutenant, the DA, CPS, and the judge that had signed the warrant for Will Horton’s arrest.

Now in Salem, she sits in Abe Carver's office, a man she knows, and up until this point, had respected.

“It’s not your case, Chicago’s case, or the CID’s. It’s mine.”

“Was.” Hope says mildly, for the time being. “Not anymore. You dragged that poor boy through the system, Abe. You cut corners, worked around the rules, and dragged him after he was already badly hurt. You used your connections, all to get him tossed into Statesville.”

Red stains Abe’s cheeks.

“That ‘poor boy’ put his mother, sister, and step grandfather in the hospital. I just did my job, and don’t you dare come into my town and say otherwise.”

“I am saying otherwise.”

“You will pay for this, Hope. Stefano and Sami are going out of their minds about Allie. I have no idea what possessed Eric Brady to do this--I thought he had more sense than that. But you can bet he will be charged with child abduction. And once Stefano’s finished, you’ll lose your badge for this.”

Hope sets down a copy of the first entry in Will’s journal on Abe’s desk. “Read this. Will wrote this--look at the date. Read it.”

“Every minute you keep that girl hidden away from her mother is going to make it worse.”

But he still snatches up the copy. “It’s horeshit, Hope. The boy’s crazy.”

“His mom and grandfather are. I called the resort where they went the day after Christmas of that same year. Talked to the butler, housekeeper and manager. Know what every single one of them said, Abe? That Will fell off his bike, broke his nose, and got hurt. He showed up like that. He had to stay in the room--ordered by Stefano DiMera to not bother him.”

“Tell me, what story did he give you, Abe?”

“That has to be a mistake. Will had a skiing accident.”

“They told Eric and his grandparents Will had the flu. Wouldn’t let anyone see him--Stefano claimed it was about the germs. I have their statements too.”

Disgusted, Hope pulls the papers out of the file she’s holding, tossing them on Abe’s desk. “I have Allie’s statement.” Another one. “Everything the kid wrote in there is 100% the truth.”

“You haven’t even begun to do your job on any of this.”

“Don’t you dare tell me how to do my job.” Abe fires back. “I know Stefano and Sami.”

“Do you?”

Abe jabs a finger in Hope’s face. “You seriously mean to tell me Stefano beats up his stepdaughter, and her kids, and they’re all lying to cover it up? That not even once until last night have we ever gotten a 911 call from the DiMera mansion?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Will started writing everything down that exact same day, the day you have right in front of you. All the punches, slaps, the fear, the threats. And the mom just went along with all of it. I just had her 13 year old daughter tell me about how after her grandfather beat the crap out of her mom, he’d buy her something pretty. I had her look me right in the eyes and tell me she thinks her mom likes it.”

“Allie’s traumatized. She--”

“Of fucking course she is.” Forget mild. “Think back, you idiot. The kid calls 911, and once you show up, she’s unconscious so you can’t talk to her. Will’s at the bottom of the stairs with a broken arm and concussion, and torn ligaments. But you’re not listening.”

“The two adults at the scene, two people I know very well, gave the exact same story.”

“Okay, I can let you have that. But did you ever take a statement from the son? You don’t even think to question Stefano demanding you arrest him, how he got it through so quickly? How you _helped_ him get it through so quickly? How the kid didn’t even last a night in the hospital before Stefano was demanding he be released? No child advocate, lawyer, nothing. Just lock him away. He said it was most likely drugs, but the kid is completely clean. Did you even bother looking at his tox screen?”

Hope yanks another paper out, slapping it on the desk. “Clean.” She snatches one back up. “This is what Allie says what happened last night. Read it and weep. Finally start fucking putting it together.”

“I’ve known Stefano for almost 3 decades, for Christ sake. Sami for even longer than that. I;ve eaten dinner at their house. I was in that mansion, Hope, and not once did I ever see any sign of any of this.”

“Read. It.”

Once he has, Abe stands up, turning to the window. “I believed him. You weren’t there, you didn’t see what I saw. If you were to ask me just one day ago to name the perfect family in Salem, I’d say Stefano DiMera and his step family.”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “There’s nobody who would’ve said differently. Damnit, Hope, they all would’ve agreed with me. Now you have me thinking of the little things. How he couldn;t stop singing his praises about Will, but turn it into a backhanded compliment. How hard he was on Will to study, because he had delusions of grandeur about baseball. How he was always nagging Will about chores, or him talking back to his mom. Small things--you don’t have kids yet, Hope. You expect parents to gripe, especially about teenagers.”

He turns back. “Sami was PTA president. She--Jesus.”

“There’s more in there you’re definitely gonna want to read. I’m gonna leave copies for your files.” Hope gets to her feet. “I’m going to the DiMera mansion and Stefano DiMera on charges of child and spousal abuse, assault, and child endangerment. I’m also arresting Samantha Brady on charges of child abuse and child endangerment. I just came here to give you the heads up.”

“Goddamnit I believed him.” The tone is begging now. “I didn’t even think to question it when they said Will was a danger to all of them, including himself.”

“And you were wrong. Will is gonna be processed out, and his record completely expunged. Eric Brady is being granted temporary custody of both minors. I will do everything in my power to make that permanent.”

“Keep reading.” she says in parting, then walks out.

In no less than ten minutes, with her partner and five uniforms, Hope rings the bell in Salem, st the DiMera mansion.

She assumes the guy that answers is a lawyer, holding up the warrants. “Chicago PD.”

“I’m the DiMera’s attorney. I put call in to your captain, and Chicago’s mayor. You’re holding a minor child against her mother’s wishes.”

“Read the warrant.” Hope moves right past him, into the huge foyer, straight into the living room, where Stefano DiMera immediately gets to his feet.

“Stefano DiMera, you’re hereby under arrest for child and spousal abuse, endangerment of a child, and assault.” As she speaks, Hope spins Stefano around to put him in cuffs.

Stefano spins back around to throw a punch. “Why don’t you add resisting arrest and assault on a police officer while you’re at it. You have the right to remain silent.”

“Cooperate, Stefano.” the lawyer orders while Hope keeps reading his rights. “Don’t say a word. I’ll deal with this as quickly as possible.”

But Stefano pays him no mind, tries to hit again until two of the uniformed cops move in to restrain him.

“You can’t do this!” Sami, face adorned with bruises, clutches her hands to her chest. “This is crazy! Will--”

“That no longer has merit, Mrs. DiMera, and you’re hereby under arrest for child abuse, reckless endangerment of a child, accessory to assault, and lyng to the police.”

She smacks her away as Hope reads her Miranda rights. “Don’t touch me! Stefano!”

“Samantha, stay calm. Don’t say a word. You don’t need to put her in cuffs.” the lawyer insists.

“I respectfully disagree.” Hope says, and cuffs her anyway.

Hope can’t even begin to describe the pleasure she gets to walk Samantha Brady out of her house, to have the neighbors come out and watch, to load her into the back of a police car.

She loads Stefano in a seperate car. No more talking or conspiring for them.

No more making those kids’ lives a living hell.

“Your badge will be revoked for this.” the lawyer tries to warn. “And we’ll be filing a lawsuit that will bury you alive, you specifically.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Do not speak to my clients. They won’t say anything.”

“Fine by me. They can rot in a prison cell until you figure out how to do that. There’s somewhere else I need to be anyway.”

With that Hope leaves, head never held as high in her entire career.


	17. Chapter 17

Will’s not required to make his bunk bed when they tell him to get up. He hadn’t bothered pulling back the covers. He hadn’t bothered sleeping, either.

He tries to force himself to eat breakfast without thinking about where he’s eating it, looking up or at anyone else. Some of them talk, some were trash talking, some eat like it’s their last meal, some take a bite or two and call it a day.

The dining hall--if that’s even what it’s called--echoes, plastic spoons and forks clinking against plates, chairs scraping across the floor, voices muttering.

Someone steals his biscuit. Not that he cares, and his non reaction gets him a kick to his bad ankle right on the boot under the table, followed by snickering.

After breakfast, they file out the same way they were filed in. They take him down to the infirmary.

The doctor reads his chart. Most likely someone sent it from the ER. He frowns a lot, asking dozens of questions.

Blurry vision? Nope.

Headaches? Yes.

He keeps frowning when he takes Will’s shirt off looking at the bruises on his gut, and his ribs.

Asks more pressing questions.

He takes the boot off, examining the ankle. Elevates it, applies ice as he looks at the splint.

You guessed it, more questions.

He probes Will’s nose gently, along with his cheeks, and under the eyes.

“Was your nose broken previously?”

“Yes?”

“How?”

“My grandfather, Stefano DiMera, punched me.”

The prison doctor looks directly in Will’s eyes, for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Does your grandfather beat you?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever reported the previous beatings to the authorities?”

“He has the authorities in his back pocket.”

Will thinks the doctor actually sighs.

A nurse has to give Will a sponge bath because he can’t shower himself.

“You should’ve been kept overnight for observation, to manage your pain. I’m going to recommend you be transferred back under the care of the doctor that treated you.”

“Won’t do any good. Stefano has ins with everyone at that hospital. He wants me to rot here.”

He gives Will a crutch--only one, because of the splint--but it helps a lot. So does whatever Will’s given for the pain.

“You’ll be taken back to your cell to rest. The therapist here will see you later today. Keep both your ankle and arm elevated.”

So he goes back, back to the quiet. He can hear things from outside his cell. Voices, moving, orders being snapped, possibly someone rolling a mop and bucket.

He drifts off, not really sleeping, but nodding off, then awake, nodding off again.

When he hears the lock sliding, he closes his eyes. He hopes the therapist would assume he’s asleep, and leave him alone. He doesn’t want to talk. He’d said all the important things back in the infirmary.

But then the bed sinks under someone else’s weight. Opens his eyes.

He sees a woman who looks as exhausted as he feels, one that hasn’t slept. Brown hair and dark eyes, dark blazer and badge.

“Will, I’m Detective Williams, Chicago PD.”

A cop, he thinks. Another one. Will’s only response is to close his eyes again.

“Will.” He feels a hand on his arm--not holding him down, just touching. “I’m here to get you out.”

“Out of where?”

“Out of here. Will, I met your sister tonight.”

Will’s eyes fly open. “Allie. Is she okay? Is she--”

“She’s alright. She’s so smart, and brave. Your uncle brought her to see me last night.”

“Uncle Eric. Allie got to Uncle Eric.” Now he squeezes his eyes shut, against the tears that won’t stop.

“They got to me too. Will, Kaye got your journals. I read them. Every word, on every page. I’m so sorry I couldn’t come sooner. It took a while.”

And in those dark eyes, this stranger’s eyes, Will sees the same thing he saw in Kaye’s.

She believes him.

“I-I’m out on bail?”

“No. You’re free to go. The charges have been dropped. Let’s talk later, alright? Let’s get you out of here. I’ve already gone through all the paperwork, so all you need to do is get dressed, and we can go.”

Will starts shaking, unable to stop. “I’m free? I can go?”

“Take a few breaths.” Hope tells him, taking Will’s hand. “This should’ve never happened, Will. I have some clothes for you. Or, I should say your uncle got them for you. He got new clothes. Hopefully they’re the right size. He assumed you wouldn’t want whatever it is you were wearing when you came in here.”

“We settled on sweats.” she continues casually, as she gives Will the shopping bag. “A shirt, boxers, and sandals.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I know. Let me help you, so you can change.”

It’s not so embarrassing this time, because she keeps talking as Will trades the orange uniform for the sweats, the shirt, and slips a sandal onto his good foot.

“Pants are shorter than I’d like, but they work.”

“They said I have to--I have to--”

“No you don’t. Let’s go.” She wraps an arm around Will, helping him stand up, getting him on the crutch. She picks the bag up, walking Will to the door, banging twice.

The door slides open, the guard stepping back.

Will can smell some kind of cleaner, on top of bleach. He knows he’s shaking again, but the cop doesn’t say anything.

“Who are you?”

“Detective Williams. Hope. I’m Hope.”

“Stefano will stop you. He’ll--”

“No he won’t. He’s already been arrested, and your mom too.”

Will’s knees give out from under him, but Hope holds him up, and keeps walking. Slower, but still walking.

“Breathe. Keep breathing nice and easy. He won’t hurt you or Allie ever again. You were so smart to write it all down, Will. That was brilliant.”

No one stops them. Guards open the doors, let them pass right on through without an objection. Then the sun hits his eyes, and he can see the gate. And it’s through the gate he sees Allie, and Uncle Eric. He wants to run, trying to walk a little bit faster.

“Easy. We’re almost there.”

“He hurt her. He hit her right across the face.”

“She’s going to be okay. She has quite the story to tell you. She broke out of the hospital. You have quite the badass for a baby sister. Just a few more steps.”

They call his name. Uncle Eric’s fighting tears and calling him. But Allie’s not crying, not yet. She just keeps calling Will’s name.

The gates bang open, and once he’s through, they practically suffocate him.

“Oh, Will. I’m so, so sorry.” Eric lifts Will’s face, stroking his hand over him. “I’m sorry.” When Will just shakes his head, Eric hugs him again, holds both him and Allie tightly.

“Ready to go home?” Eric asks.

“I can’t go back. Please. I can’t.”

“No, of course not. To my place. Grandma Marlena and John are probably already there by now. We’re going home. Our home. I’m taking care of both of you now. You and Allie can sit in the back. I’ll be up front with Hope. Who I owe everything for making all of this happen, and plan to pay back in every way humanly possible.”

Hope laughs, shaking her head. “I just did my job.”

“They’re my whole life now. You saved my life.”

They help Will into the car, and Allie snuggles up against him. “Are you hurt?”

Will squeezes her hand. “Not anymore.”


	18. Chapter 18

Hope listens to the Horton children, telling each other about everything they missed. Resilient, she thinks, is thriving in the children of the future. Both kids still have some tough times ahead of them, and definitely need therapy, she thinks. But they’re going to be okay.

Will actually laughs when Allie tells him about sneaking out of her room barefoot. Hope note how she--for the time being--leaves out the part of Stefano being there, threatening her once she woke up.

Just like Will’s leaving parts out of his own story.

“Was it awful, in that jail?”

“No, not really.” For a moment, Hope’s eyes meet Will’s in the rearview mirror. “No different from when I was locked in my room back at the DiMera mansion.”

“Hope got us a shelter for the night. Well, technically early morning. It was kind of sad, but not much. A lot of people were just like us, beat up by people that hurt them. But it was a safe place. They were nice. Uncle Eric said we’re donating to them, in all of our names. As a thank you.”

“Guess he can’t give them thoughts and prayers.”

With a shock laugh, eyes filled with tears, Eric looks back. “Smart ass.”

“Uncle Eric? Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize.”

Eric reaches back for Will’s hand. “You either.”

Will settles, his good arm wrapped around his sister. There’s one moment when Will sees the river, but he doesn’t think about it because the car doesn’t go near the DiMera mansion, instead going to the other side of town.

Where he’ll finally be safe.

He sees the water, the park, the houses, the graveyard. The rental car in Uncle Eric’s driveway. His grandparents are on the front porch, already walking to the car.

They both cry. Will’s pretty sure there’s going to be a lot of crying in the foreseeable future.

“I’m going to head off with Hope for a while.” Uncle Eric tells Will. “I’ll be back with food. Feels like a Chinese night.”

“Uh, Detective Williams? Can I talk to you for a second?” Will asks.

“Sure.”

“Everybody inside.” His grandma Marlena takes over. “We’ll make it a picnic. Come on.” She leads a very reluctant Allie towards the house.

“You never said what charges they were arrested on.”

“For what they did to both of you.”

“Sami didn’t hit us.”

First name basis, Hope notes. Not Mom.

“She’s the reason your face is all scratched up.”

Will touches the scratches lightly with the tips of his fingers. “Might’ve. Hard to remember.”

“She watched it happen, which makes her an accomplice. She hurt you, Will. Just like Stefano.”

Will wants to believe that. Jesus, he wants to believe that so badly. “He knows people. He can get a damn good lawyer.”

“I need you to trust me.” Hope gives Will a very steady look, which helps the pain in Will’s gut ease. “I’m very good at what I do. Eric’s coming with me because he thinks he can convince your mom to tell the truth.”

“Then she won’t go to jail. But--”

“Just a lighter sentence if she’s cooperative. But she can’t take you away from Eric or your grandparents. Both you and Allie are old enough to decide where you want to live. We’re also going to prove she’s an unfit mother. Don’t worry.”

“Can you please come back and tell me what the end result is?”

“Of course. Are you prepared to stand up in court, judge and jury, and tell them everything?”

“Yes I do. I want to.” It bursts out of him, the need, like a burst of power. “I want to look him right in the eyes as I tell everyone what he did. I need to.”

“Good. You’re going to get to do that. I gotta get going now.”

“Ma’am? Thank you. Thank you for freeing me, keeping Allie safe. I’ll never forget that.”

“Just take care of yourself, Will. Now head inside so your grandparents can start their entitled fussing.”

“It’s what they do best. I always imagined what it would be like living here.” he says as Hope helps him onto the porch. “Often right after one of those times.”

“Now you’re going to.” She opens the screen door. “Can you make the rest on your own?”

“Yean, I’m good.”

I know you are. Hope thinks.

“Tell Eric we have to get going.”

They talk everything out on the drive to the police station in Chicago, and while Hope’s first impression of Eric is a tough man that can handle himself only gets stronger, she still hesitates at the door of the interview room.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Hope.” Eric puts a hand on her arm. “I have to do this. For all I know it's just going to finally get that thorn out of my side, but I have to.”

“Once you’re done, or you’ve reached your limit, just bang the door.”

“Understood.”

She opens the door, signaling for the cop in the room to exit. Eric walks in, the door closing behind him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, I am not biased against Sami. But I needed a Days of Our Lives villain, and she was the best bet to complement Stefano.

Sami Brady sits at a small table, back straightened, handcuffed hands folded on the table. Her face is covered in evidence of last night, but her eyes, Eric notes, burning with angry pride.

“About time you showed your sorry face here.”

His stomach wants to make him throw up. Eric makes note of that with feigned interest as he sits across from his twin sister. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“I’ve been in this fucking box for hours. I’m being treated like a fucking sex offender, they won’t even tell me where Stefano is, or what they’re doing to him! My lawyer keeps telling me he'll make all these false charges go away, and he’ll be able to at least get us out on bonds, until our good names are restored to their former glory. But right now I need some of my stuff. I’m gonna make a list.”

Interesting, Eric thinks. Same as she’s always been.

But not me.

“No you’re not. You seem to be under the very false assumption I’m actually here to help you. But I’m not. The fact that your first question wasn’t about your kids just confirms that.”

“My kids--and they’re not incompetent--are conspiring against me, and Stefano. Will’s a bad kid, Eric. You don’t even know what--”

“Shut the hell up.” Sami’s head snaps when Eric spouts those four words. “One more word against Will, one fucking word against that amazing kid, and I’m out. You won’t have anyone in your corner. I know everything, including what happened on Christmas break two years ago, and last night. I know every single detail. Spare me the theatrics, Sami.”

To keep his anger in check, Eric sits back. “They let me come in here to talk to you. It’s you and me. They’re not allowed to hear anything. It’s illegal. I need you to tell me how. How the hell could you do this to Will and Allie? How the hell could you let Stefano do this to them, and you? I need to know how.”

“Stop being a moron and do something right for once in your life! I need my cosmetics! The fact that you’re willing to believe a couple willful teenagers on a couple of sentences alone, over me, your own twin sister, tells me how naive you really are.”

“Enough with the bullshit. I’m not going to get anything for you, doing a damn thing for you. Only worried about your face, Sami, your skin looking like it does with that shiner and bruising? Do me a favor and just imagine what it’s gonna look like after you’ve been in jail.”

“I’m not going to jail.” But her lip quivers.

“Yes you are. How long, and what kind of sentence you’ll get depends on what you’re going to do, and what you’re going to tell the cops when they come in here.”

“Our attorney--”

“Stop.” To emphasize, Eric lifts one finger. “That’s mistake number one, and probably the biggest one. You are a lot of things, but you’re not an idiot. Think long and hard before using the same lawyer as the guy that gave you that shiner. You have an opportunity here, but that could expire very very soon. Get your own lawyer, and I will be nice enough to give you a few names of good lawyers I found when I thought I’d need them for Will. He’s not gonna need them anymore.”

“Will needs to pay for what he did. He--Stop!” As Eric stands up, there’s genuine panic in Sami’s voice. “Don’t go. Please.”

“Then cut the crap.”

“How do I know you’re not wired?”

Eric takes his shirt off, turning around to show her. “Just you and me, Sami. Stefano’s paying for the lawyer, and whose side do you think he’ll be on if he has to pick? You should do the same, and once I’m gone, I’ll call someone to represent you.”

He slides his shirt back on, sitting back down. “We were both raised in the same house, by the same people. We were supposed to have self respect. How can you let Stefano beat you up, and your kids? You could’ve come to me, or anyone else, and we would’ve helped you!”

“You don’t understand anything. It’s our personal business. He’s EJ’s father. I love him.”

“If he’s hitting you, he doesn’t love you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Sami literally rolls her eyes. “So, so boring. Always are.” Face lighting up again, Sami leans in. “I’m not boring. Stefano and I have drive, something else you clearly will never have. You married someone that just used you for your money, and the second her cancer went into remission, even she couldn’t bother to stick around.”

“That drive is what put you in the hospital.”

“He just went a step too far. We have an agreement that he never hits me in the face.”

Seriously, Eric thinks, just when he thinks he’s all shocked out, she surprises him.

“You sat down and talked about where he is and isn’t allowed to hit you?”

“And once all this crap is a distant memory, he’s the one who has to make it up to me for breaking that agreement. There were circumstances.”

He didn’t believe it, couldn’t even fathom it being true, not that one thing out of everything Allie said. It was sick, and yet, it’s just been confirmed.

“You like it. You actually get your kicks from it.”

“Don’t be so close minded. After all these years, we’re still under the same roof. He has a very stressful career, and he needs to relieve himself when he gets home. Where do you get off on judging me? Look at where I am. The biggest house in all of Salem, I can go on vacation whenever I want, an stepfather that buys me things, and looks the other way when I wanna fuck someone under his roof.”

She throws up her hands, looking at her twin brother with a sick pity. “Meanwhile, where are you? A beat up old house, a bunch of properties you have to rent out, and nobody that will give you the time of day.”

They’re sitting, Eric thinks, debating this with his beat up twin sister in a prison uniform, with a cop on the door. And yet, as far as he’s concerned, he’s a better person than Sami will ever be.

Because the one thing Sami has that Eric’s actually jealous of her for never even came up.

“Funny, Sami, out of everything you just listed, you never mentioned one specific thing. Your kids.”

“I didn’t want them.” She shrugs, like it’s not even worth wasting a thought on. “I stuck to the agreement. Two kids. When EJ left, I had to get them somewhere else. And I did everything perfectly. Two kids. They wanted for nothing. Clothes on their back, a good school. Dancing for the daughter, sports for the son. Music for both, though Will sucks at it. Healthy food, discipline, good education, and recreation.”

Eric was wrong. He still has plenty of room to be shocked. “They were part of the agreement too?”

“How would it look if Stefano had his daughter in law living with him but no grandchildren? Someone like Stefano needs something to make him look good.”

“So they’re all about making the DiMeras the power family. Is that why EJ left? Because he actually gave a damn when Stefano hit his wife?”

“Kids are supposed to be punished when they’re bad. Will’s not a baby anymore.”

“So you’re done with him. Don’t care what happens to him?”

“He could’ve had all the opportunities in the world. He could’ve studied business at Salem U, worked at DiMera Enterprises. And now?” She shrugs again, another thing she couldn’t care less about. “No idea what Stefano wants to do. We’ll have to talk about it.”

“They are no longer your or Stefano’s concern. They’re with me.”

“Give me a break. Like a court will take children away from a well respected family like the DiMeras.”

“They absolutely will. The DiMera name is as good as ruined. The cops know everything.”

“Unreliable teenagers’ word against ours.”

“And the statements from the staff from the resort, where you took Will after Stefano broke his nose. Forgot about that, didn’t you?” Eric adds as he sees realization dawn in her eyes.

“Never even considered that a lie like that would be the thing to come back to haunt you. There’s way more than that, but I’ll let the cops tell you the rest, along with whatever lawyer you tell. You might be able to make a deal, have some of the charges pleaded down. But when you go to court, I will gladly be the one of the many testifying against you and Stefano.”

Sami’s face goes hot. “You were always an asshole, so jealous of your twin sister. That’s what this is really all about, isn’t it? You’ve always been jealous of me, because I married into a rich family, and you didn’t.”

“Nope. Never jealous for even a second. I don’t even feel sorry for you. I was just here to try and convince you to tell the truth, make a deal so you’ll only spend a few years instead of a decade in jail. But after everything you just said? I don’t care. Not anymore. I don’t even care about you enough to wish you good luck.”

Then Eric rises, seeing the fear on Sami’s face clearly. “Tell me something. Did you and Stefano ever have an agreement on what you’re supposed to do if this ever happened? Did it even occur to you that everything would fall apart, and what you’re supposed to do when it did?”

Eric shrugs. “I guarantee Stefano is.”

Turning, he lifts a hand to knock on the door.

“Call the lawyer.”

Eric looks back. “Which one?”

“The one you have. I want my own.”

“I can do that. I will do that, Sami, as the absolute last thing I ever do for you.”

Then Eric does bang on the door, and when it opens, he doesn’t even steal a glance back.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for waiting so long to update. Had to buy a new charger for my laptop, and didn't have anywhere else to write. 
> 
> Hope this makes up for it!

It takes time, but Hope definitely doesn’t mind keeping Stefano waiting. The DA was adamant on holding him without bail, and had no problem using two minors, several injured and in an unsafe environment, to his advantage.

Nor did it hurt to have Commissioner Carver speak.

So she managed to buy some time, just enough for Sami Brady’s lawyer to catch up with everything, and push to make a deal.

When she walks into the interview, her gut tells her she’s got this down cold. Just like it tells her now that Stefano probably wasn’t entirely honest with his attorney.

She turns on the recorder, and sits.

“Address all of your questions to me.” the lawyer tells Hope.

“Of course. As you already know, Mrs. DiMera already has her own attorney. I just came back from speaking to both of them. She turned on you, Stefano. Cut herself a deal.”

“Spousal privilege.”

“Does not apply,” Hope’s quick to interrupt. “When one of the spouses is either not here, or when it pertains to the execution of a crime. Mrs. DiMera went for getting her sentence reduced. Not that I blame her.”

Stefano leans over to whisper something to his attorney.

“Mr. DiMera wishes to speak to his daughter in law.”

“You’ll have to wait to discuss that with her lawyer, along with the Decatur Correctional Center, where she's going to be staying for the next five to ten years. You know, it might even have been 3 to 5 if she hadn’t willingly lied to have her badly beaten son locked up. That, along with holding down her minor daughter while her stepfather drugged her so she couldn’t say anything. That just made it worse.”

“As for your client...” Hope opens the file. “He could possibly be going for the whole book.”

“We’re contenting that Samantha Brady was coerced, and because of her own injuries, caused by her own son, was compromised on both a physical and emotional level.”

“Try that all you want. The shrink already cleared her. She’s definitely got some serious issues, but once she stopped lying, the stuff that came out was all it took. One of which was hitting his son in the gut with a baseball bat after a game your client attended, because the minor son had the nerve to hit a foul ball. He was 10. I believe that’s what’s called assault and battery with a deadly weapon.”

“My client is denying all of the charges. We already filed for another bail hearing.”

“I got that too. But before you go ahead with that, let’s fast forward a few years. I want to make sure your client already told you about what happened December 23rd-30th, 2007.”

Hope pulls some papers out of the file as she speaks. “How on that day, of that year, your client’s two minor step grandchildren came home to find their grandfather, again, hitting their mom. This time, the minor son tried to stop the attack, and was beaten unconscious for his troubles.”

“My client is refusing that allegation, in every sense of the word.”

“The minor in question was 14, and was locked in his room, and denied medical treatment for injuries sustained. Among those injuries are a broken nose, bruised ribs, black eyes, and a very bad concussion. The nose, because Stefano paid to have a doctor reset it no questions asked, was done so without pain medication. The minor was also denied food until a full 24 hours later.”

“Clearly Will is suffering from a nervous breakdown.”

“Counselor, do you have kids?”

“Why is that relevant?”

“Just tell me.”

“Two daughters, but they’re all grown up now.”

“I want you to be thinking about them when you read these. Apparently Mr. DiMera really didn’t want to miss the holiday trip that year, despite how badly injured Will was. I have statements from all the staff at the Joliet Nodic Ski Club, where the family stayed from the 26th through the 30th.”

Eyes still on Stefano’s, Hope pushes them across the table.

“The kid was supposed to be sick with the flu. That’s what they told the family when he was locked up over Christmas. That right there is the story they told the staff at the resort.”

Stefano leans over again, but the lawyer holds up a hand to stop him.

“A boy recovering from the flu could easily fall off a bike.”

“Now’s where I show you the statements of the neighbors, teachers and the police commissioner in Salem, along with the minor’s uncle. How exactly does a kid get the flu, fall off a bike, be once again locked away in the hotel room, and still get into a skiing accident?”

Hope keeps shoving papers. “Then there’s the statement from Mrs. DiMera confirming all the beatings took place, along with all the statements not matching up. And then there’s this.”

She lays out a copy of Will’s first notebook entry in front of the attorney. “Written by a boy of only 14, scared and in pain. All the details match up. That’s the night he started writing everything down. The night Will started writing down your beatings.”

“I have to consult with my client. This interview is officially over.”

“Consult with your bastard client all you want. I’m going to make it my one ambition in life to see to it he’s put away for the highest possible sentence. My one fucking ambition in life.”

“I will end you. All of you.”

“Shut up, Stefano. Don’t say a word.”

“You took their innocence and sense of security away.”

“I gave them everything they wanted!”

“You gave them bruises and broken bones.”

“They owe me for every night they get to spend under my roof, and it’s completely up to me, and me alone, how I decide they should be raised.”

“Never again.”

“That boy dares to think he can go up against me? He’s lucky he's not in a body bag.”

“Enough, Stefano! Detective, this interview is over.”

“Your lawyer’s already thinking of a way to plead everything down. Not happening.” Hope pokes a finger on the copy of Will’s journal entry. “My ambition in life.”

“I will have your badge! When I’m done with you, you won’t even be able to show your face in Chicago, Salem, or anywhere else.”

“Whatever you say.” Hope switches off the recorder, and walks out.

It takes time--justice always does--but in less than a year, Hope’s lifting a beer, with only one thought:

Justice at last.


	21. Chapter 21

Hope drives on the road near the river on a day in spring with the mountains turning green, the flowers popping up everywhere, mood at an all time high. Optimism is key.

Justice isn’t always served, crime doesn’t always pay--she’s been a cop so long, she can’t not know that. So when it finally does, you beat that dead horse right into the ground while you still can.

She rounds the turn for Eric Brady’s house, pulling into the drive just as Eric’s climbing out of his own car.

Even her timing makes her happy.

His jeans are old and beat up, a tight t- shirt the same color as the dark water. And the same hoodie Allie was wearing just a year ago.

She’s heard Eric call it his lucky hoodie.

She thinks, with a start, that he looks really amazing.

He pulls off his sunglasses, standing as he watches her get out of the car, watching her face.

“You got good news. I can tell.” He still lifts a hand, rubbing it on his chest. “Say it, quick. Pretend it’s bad news.”

“15 to 20 years. He’s being transported to a maximum security prison in Crest Hill.”

Bracing himself on the side of the truck, he lets out a long breath, holding up the other hand. “One moment.”

Taking it, he walks away a few feet, towards the river. Takes in the breeze, the warmth on his face. And breathes out again when he feels her walk up to stand behind him.

“I was gonna show my face for this morning’s sentencing, even though you advised against it. I didn’t want to look at that bastard again, almost convinced myself the look on his face when the jury brought back the guilty verdicts was plenty for me. I even started to get dressed.”

“So what happened?”

“Housekeeper had a sick kid. Backup wouldn’t come in either. And even the backup’s backup couldn't do it. Two turnovers, on top of the daily cleaning, and of course we’re full. The help that did come couldn’t do it alone, so...”

He lets out a steady breath, reaching back until she takes his hand. “I just figured it was a sign I shouldn't go in, look him right in the eyes when the sentence was handed down. I even forgot about it as I was cleaning the bathrooms and changing the sheets.”

He nods. “Twenty fucking years.” he murmurs. “The kids will be adults when he gets out. What about parole?”

“15 is the absolute minimum. He’s not getting parole that easily, Eric, and most likely not even on the first two tries. Forget about it,” Hope advises. “He’s completely locked up, where he deserves to be. Will and Allie are safe.

“I can even tell them when they get home. Little more than a couple hours.” he adds when he looks at his watch. “Do you have to go back to Chicago?”

“Not today, I don’t.”

“It’s barely one, but...ah screw it. Let’s have a beer.”

She goes in with him, liking the ricketyness of the house, and the fact that it’s uncomfortably untidy.

“Might have some chips or something in the kitchen.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

Eric tosses his sunglasses on the counter. “I gotta make another grocery run. Man, can they eat. Still not used to it.” He pulls two beers out, popping off the lids. “One helluva year, Hope Williams.”

He angles his head. “Actually there’s something else.” he lifts a hand to stop Hope from whatever she was gonna say next. “So many ups and downs, and you were there for it all, Hope, for the good, the bad, the ugly, all of it. I’ve really gotten to know you--even your cop face. Don’t hold back. I need you to tell me if--”

“It has nothing to do with the DiMeras.”

“Good. Let’s take these outside, and take in the view, while you tell me what it actually is. There’s nothing I haven’t told you over the past year. Now it’s your turn.”

“Actually, that would be great. I’d really love to run it by you.”

“This is really a nice place, Eric. It’s a really nice home.”

“Well I’d hope so.”

“No hoping about it. I’ve watched both you and the kids for the past year, seen the changes in them, even to where they finally started to relax. Lose that haunted look in their eyes. It’s been so difficult, with the trial and everything.”

“Therapy definitely helped. Still is.”

“You’ve done everything right. They have a safe place, a real home.”

“Not by myself, that's for sure. Mom and John should be applying for sainthood. She’s Mom’s daughter too, Hope. Sami’s her daughter. But they still stood up.”

Eric closes his eyes. “Only once did Mom break down, and that was when we were alone. Will and Allie want to change their last names to Horton, their dad’s last name.”

“Might be the best thing for them going forward.”

“I agree. So many friends, family, neighbors, all stood up for us. Stood by us. There’s no way we could’ve shown our face otherwise.”

“It’s a good town, Eric.”

“Yeah, it is.”

And he’ll be forever grateful to look at the river, at the town, and still know that.

“The Stevens family---those kids were a Godsend. For the kids, and for me. They’re still here for us. So are you, Hope.”

Eric takes her hand. “Especially you. Without you, I don’t see how any of this would’ve been possible. I’m glad I never have to answer that question.”

Now he turns to face her. “Now tell me what’s on your mind, so I can pay you back.”

“I had a meeting with Chief Carver. A few of them, actually, but we had another one after the sentencing. Me, Carver, and a few others too.”

The smile starts fading. “I thought you said it wasn’t about Stefano.”

“It’s not. It’s more like collateral damage. Carver’s calling it a day.”

“Calling it?”

“Resigning.” Hope explains. “Wanted to see everything through, and now it’s done. They’re leaving town once the school year is over. It’s what he needs.”

Eric nods. “Sounds good from where I’m standing. I’ve had mixed feelings for a while about that. He actually apologized to Will, all of us, in person. But there were still feelings I couldn’t just forget about. I’m not sorry Will doesn’t have to see him.”

“But that means there’s a spot. They offered me the job.”

“You? That’s definitely a surprise. Not that we wouldn’t be lucky to have you, but isn’t that a huge change for you? You’re a city cop. You’d be okay just working for the Salem PD?”

“Depends. I like the town, and the people. It’s a good place. I think I’m ready for a change. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Me?”

Eric’s only more confused. “I don’t think I get what you're saying.”

“I’ve got time. Then we’ll see if it’s a good fit or not. I’m not doing this right. How’s this: want to get dinner sometime?”

“Okay. Just need to run to the store...wait you mean a date? I need to put my beer down.”

Eric does so, walking back to the front porch.

“That’s not what I...it can ve everyone.”

Eric turns back. Not just nervous, he realizes, but right now Hope looks completely embarrassed.

Isn’t that just adorable?

“That is what you meant. It was just a few shy weeks of a year since Allie and I came to you at the Chicago police station, and not once did you try something. Not once.”

“Of course not. You really think I’d risk messing up the case, trial, you, or the kids by flirting with you? Jesus Christ.”

“But apparently you wanted to.”

“I--” Hope sips her beer again. “Well, yeah. I must be an idiot. You’re a handsome guy, and have smarts. Toughest guy I know, with the biggest heart I’ve ever seen.”

Eric leans against the railing as he feels that lonely place inside him fill up.

“I never got even close to feeling that vibe from you, Detective Hope Williams. Not once.”

“You had more than enough to deal with. Last thing those kids need is someone flirting with their uncle when they need him as their rock.”

“I’m gonna owe you for life.”

She sets down her beer, harder than she meant to, and pushes to stand. “That’s exactly what I don’t want, exactly what we’re not gonna do. Please don’t feel like you’re obligated to do anything with me. I’m not gonna settle for that, and neither should you.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“We became friends, and that worked out great. If that’s all you want-”

He grabs her by the shoulder, pulling her in, effectively shutting her up.

This feels nice. He thinks.

He strokes her face. “You’re the cop. What do you think about my interest?”

“I’d say you’re curious.”

Laughing, he pulls her in closer. “I’ve been thinking about you too. Told myself no, you’re just lonely. Don’t go chasing after something that might not even work out. So I kept quiet too.”

She leans into him against the porch railing so they can kiss again, falling into it.

“Is that a yes, then?”

“I’ll cook, you stay in. The kids are gonna need it when we tell them about Stefano. Saturday night, however, I want to be our first official date.”

“You’re the boss.” She closes her eyes as he holds her. “I was worried you’d find someone else before everything was over.”

“Me too--but about you.” Pulling back, he pulls her arm again. “Follow me.”

“What, now? Right this second?” she says as he pulls her towards the door, through it.

“Kids aren’t gonna be back for a while. Instead of grocery shopping, let’s just make do with what’s in the pantry. I think it’s time we both made a move, Detective Hope Williams.”

“Make that Chief Williams,” she tells him, as they start upstairs. “I’m gonna take the job.”

Not only does she take the job, but by June she’s moved closer to the house by the river.

Over the next few months, Hope becomes one of Eric’s and the kids’ closest friends, and by the end, both Will and Allie are smiling proudly in the front row when she marries their uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, they're only together for the story's sake, not because I ship them together.


	22. Chapter 22

When Will enters his senior year at Salem High, his official name is Will Horton. It doesn’t erase all the Brady years, but it doesn help to make him feel more like himself.

He keeps his grades up, his room clean--out of habit and fear that won’t go away for several years. He hangs with Tad, who now goes by T, works out with Kaye, and makes fun of his sister.

He does all his chores without complaining, helping out with all the family properties, thinks about girls, like he thinks he’s supposed to.

He also goes to therapy.

If now and again he wakes up in a cold sweat, he just gets up and looks out the window. Reminds himself which part of the river he lives on now. He reminds himself there’s no one here who’s going to come in and start hitting him.

It’s all over.

And so are his dreams.

Will Hortin is never going to be a professional baseball player. Scouts are not going to be looking at him. Pickup games are okay, even town leagues. But his arm’s no longer golden, and never will be again.

It wasn’t just his elbow that was broken the night he fell down the stairs. So were his dreams, all the ones that ever mattered to him, broke right along with it.

He wouldn’t give them up, not at first. He went through the surgery, recovery, even the PT. When Rex gave him permission, he starts lifting weights again.

He gets his muscle back, but the full motion range could never quite come back fully. Not the kind needed to throw a ball to first base, not in the major leagues.

Not in, he has no choice but to admit, in college baseball.

All he’s ever wanted, since he can remember--the one thing he’s actually good at, all the way down in his gut--just went poof. Gone.

He’s even had a meltdown over it in unofficial therapy--so embarrassing. But his grandma Marlena had understood, or acted like it. She never told him he had to get over it, and just brush it off. He’s more than entitled to be upset or angry.

Since he’s already both, he doesn’t need permission to be. But it helps to know he has it. It helps his uncle Eric doesn’t nag at him to stop being depressed or complaining. And Kaye lets him vent, or punch it out. And Hope--who could’ve seen Hope and Eric would, well, you know. Hope loves baseball as much as Will, able to say statistics, and has a very impressive arm. Apparently she was left field on the Chicago PD’s softball team.

Will moves right through it, though more often than not he just stretches out on his bed holding a ball, rubbing it and tossing it in his hands back and forth.

He knows he needs to find a new plan, but it’s hard to look beyond the shattered pieces of his once attainable dream. But he still has to think about college, because it’s hanging over his head.

Where it had once been his ticket to freedom, now it’s suddenly vague.

No way in hell is he going for a Business degree. Though he admires the work, and respects what his uncle does, he just can’t do that himself.

His grades are enough to get him into a good school. Part of which was out of fear, but now he’s thanking his lucky stars, because they’re what’s helping him now. When he really thinks about it, he’d say he likes his writing classes the best. But what could that do for him?

He can’t be a teacher. He’s an exceptional writer, maybe there’s something there.

Military? Hell no. His whole life he’d been under strict military rules, in the unform of the Perfect Son.

He thinks some kind of investigating would be cool. As much as he respects Hope as a cop, he doesn’t see himself getting that close to danger again. He’ll always be grateful to Hope for putting Stefano behind bars. More than anything, he wants to show the whole world the truth about men like Stefano.

Maybe that’s the key.

He starts reading books about investigative journalism, and what he’d need. He’s got some experience already, from the journals. The more he reads, the more he thinks while he’s stretched out on his bed, the more a path starts to form in his mind--not so vague anymore.

Not just a path anymore, he decides. A real ambition.

He spends a lot of time working out, eyes on the prize. He wants to work everything out before he talks to anyone about it.

Talking about it makes it a real thing. If he makes it his dream--no, not a dream anymore, but hope is something he can still do. But if it all falls apart, he has no idea how he’ll pick himself up again.

He takes a chance, walking downstairs. Allie was staying after school, and Hope’s picking her up once she gets off work. For now, it’s just Uncle Eric, and it’s as good a start as any.

Something’s cooking on the stove, which makes the place smell like home. He its on the kitchen counter with a laptop.

He looks so happy. That’s Hope’s doing, Will supposes, because they fit together like she’s already family. He has no idea how to feel about it, not necessarily. Stefano and his mom fit, in the most fuckied up way imaginable. But his uncle and Hope? They go together like that smell filling up the house.

He owes them both everything, and will owe them for all the days of his life.

He looks up when he sees Will come in, the happiness radiating off of him. Even as Eric smiles at Will, he’s slightly flushed, closing his laptop in a way Will knows too well.

He knows.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m alright. That smells really good.”

“Chili. Gonna add some chips to give it some crunch.”

“Can I help you out?”

“Not yet, but maybe when I’m adding the chips. Something’s up with you, and I’d really love it if you would sit and tell me what it is.”

Will knows Uncle Eric means it, knows Eric’s wanting to know is completely genuine, that he’d listen without judgement. But the nerves still run up and down Will’s spine.

“Okay. So, listen.” Will sits, shifting, forgetting the whole sales pitch. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About college.”

Will swears he sees relief on his uncle’s face; the support when his uncle reaches out a hand to squeeze.

“That’s really good, Will. What idea did you have?”

“My grades are really good.”

“They’re way more than just good. They’re incredible.” When Will still hesitates, Eric squeezes again. “Let me just say this. I know, more than anyone, how hard it was for you to lose your dream of going pro. The doctor said you could try college baseball, so--”

“I wouldn’t be as good as I was.”

“Will, you’re way too hard on yourself.”

“I’d never be, and that’s just the facts. I couldn’t handle remembering.”

It hurts more than Will can even say, to remember that.

“I have to give it up. I’ve been thinking of other things. You know they expected me to go work at DiMera.”

“You don’t have to worry about their expectations ever again. Now it’s all about what you want. Whatever it is you want, Will, I’ll support you.”

“I don’t want to get a business degree. I was thinking about other things, but nothing really stuck.”

“You don’t have to pick. That’s what college is for.”

“But I actually did decide. I...I want to go to a writing school. You need a BA in Journalism, and that requires about 4 years, then an internship.”

Eric sits back, looking at Will. “You want to study writing, be an investigative journalist?”

“Yeah. I do.” Now that it’s out in the open, it’s even more real. “I want to at least try. English and writing are my best subjects. Which is a plus. FUS--Franklin University Switzerland. I know it’s out of the country, but I’d fly back whenever I can. And it’s a really good school. If I even get in.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this, haven’t you?”

“I had to see if it could even happen.”

“First things first.” Eric gestures for Will to look at him. “Is this really what you want? No one else. Just you.”

He didn’t think he could love his uncle more, because Will knows, more than anything, his uncle means it.

“It really, really is. This is what I want to try. I want to be an investigative journalist. I thought about being a cop for a hot second, but I wasn’t entirely sold. But I am on this.”

“Will, this is incredible.” Because Will’s looking right at Eric, Will can see the slight wateriness in Eric’s eyes. “You’re going to be awesome. A journalist.”

“There’s a buttload of scholarships I can apply for, and a part time job so I can save. Student loans too. And I can work during my college years. It would take 4 years plus however long the internship would be. Sometimes you get lucky and don’t even finish the internship. And if I do summer classes, I can probably cut off a whole year--”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Back up. Where did you get the idea you’d be paying for your education?”

“My college fund is as good as gone. And even if it wasn’t, I don’t want their money. I can’t take money from you. I won’t.”

Now Eric sits back. “Who says I’m gonna let you stop me?”

“You’re already doing so much.”

Eric buries his face in his hands. “You really need to stop worrying. Your grandma Kate and your stepfather EJ are already going to pay for college for you and Allie.” Eric holds out a hand to stop Will from interrupting. “Family looks out for family. We didn’t tell you because we didn’t want to pressure you. What if you didn’t want to go to college at all, take a gap year, or go to community college? Now you know what you want to do. Call them and tell them. And thank them.”

He sits back again. “Now that I said that, I’m not saying you shouldn’t work at all, or pay at least some of your expenses. What about you still working for me like you did over the summer, or something else? Long as it doesn’t interfere with school.”

“It could take forever. The cost--”

“Stop. It’s incredibly generous of both of them, which you’ll do well to remember. Not only can they afford it, but they really need to. Let them, give them this chance.”

Then Eric starts laughing. “This Just In, By Will Horton. I like the sound of it.” Eric moves to hug Will. “Let’s add the chips.”

Then his phone rings, and when he picks up, Eric’s whole face goes pale, which makes Will start to worry.

“Is Hope okay?”

“She’s okay. Apparently she had some kind of emergency.” Eric explains, hanging up.

But Will’s too smart. “Something’s wrong. She’s sick. Let’s get her to the hospital.”

“She’s already there.”

That definitely causes Will to completely lose his balance, which makes Eric say,

“Fine. You told me your thing, now I’m gonna tell you mine.”

Will braces himself for the worst case scenario, as Eric lists the laptop, moving the screen towards Will.

“Hope has a... _daughter?_ ”

Eric laughs, a genuinely happy laugh as his gaze goes to the phone. “She’s not quite ready to introduce her yet, but she’s already complaining about how long Ciara's taking to be ready.”

“Hope has A daughter.” Will still can’t grasp the concept. 

“We were supposed to wait a few more weeks before we told you and Allie, but looks like fate had other plans. She told me about a month before we got married. Ta da. We were planning on trying. Never expected to happen so damn fast.”

“You’re really happy, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding? I’m ecstatic. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but we wanted to make sure you and Allie were all settled in. And give Ciara time to settle in too.” Eric smiles again. “It’s normal for Ciara to have a small spill now and again. Thankfully there hasn’t been anything serious. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Now Will needs to sit back down. “Alli and I can start helping out more. The house, the properties. And I can start by making the rest of the chili myself. I have a step cousin!”

“New normal.” Eric tells Will. “I even got a little misty eyed when Hope said she’d pick up Allie from practice.”

“You really love her.”

“I really, really do.”

“Hope and Kaye? They’re two of the best women I know.”

“Give me a break, kid. Tell you what, before we do anything else, let’s call your grandma Marlena and John, then your grandma Kate. They all can get a double dose of good news--both of ours.”

“Deal. Uncle Eric?” Will’s smile couldn’t get any bigger. “This is so awesome.”

In the spring, Hope introduces them to a beautiful little girl with long dark hair and a pair of eyes just like her mom's.

During that spring, Will takes a pretty girl named Gabi to the prom--whatever he’d had with Mia was promptly snuffed after what happened--and finally loses his virginity.

He decides sex, the real thing, does not live up to the hype, like baseball does.

Allie gets more into theater in high school, and has a brief fling with a sophomore who wasted no time in breaking her heart.

Will receives his acceptance letter from FUS, letting out a breath of relief.

He graduates, and despite the whole ceremony being one big blur, he’s found everything he needs.

T, waiting for his turn to receive his diploma. Kaye giving Will a high five. All of his family, the only parts of his family that matter, all holding back tears. His sister, smiling. Hope holding Ciara on her shoulders so Eric can cheer and clap.

His whole world. His stone number one. He has to build on that, for something that truly matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me, folks. Next chapter is where Sonny finally enters the picture.


	23. Chapter 23

_February 2019_

Sonny Kiriakis did not choose Salem, Illinois completely at random. He had his reasons.

He wants Central, but not right smack dab in the middle. Not the big city, but not too small of a town. He wants to look out the window, and see the town staring back.

Plus, you know. It’s his hometown. He wants to be somewhere familiar, make friends with the people there now.

And he needs time. Needs it so badly. He can give himself that--wherever he winds up, he’ll give himself two weeks to decide if he doesn’t feel like it’s working out. If it does, he’ll stay.

He needs a place like that, an ambition, something to keep him grounded. He’s spent way too long directionless in life, where he could pack up and leave whenever he felt like it.

He doesn’t want to do that anymore. He wants an anchor.

He’d looked at a map of the US, searched the internet.

Illinois fits the bill. Growing season is perfect, as well as the resting time. And the Rockies--something he only knows as much about as a tourist--was definitely appealing.

He’s never given much thought to mountains, but now the idea of seeing them on the horizon sounds incredible.

Salem fits that bill too. He’d have the water he’s after, the mountains he never knew he actually wanted, a decently sized small town, and a fair distance away from the city for whenever he may want or need anything from Chicago.

If it doesn’t work out, then he can just leave.

With his destination firmly in mind, he looks at the climate charts, rain, growing seasons, plants native to the area, before moving on to businesses and activities.

Where do people go shopping, to eat out, what do they do for fun? He moves onto motels, hotels, bed and breakfasts, rental houses. Then he hits the jackpot when he sees the website for Brady Properties.

He likes the look of the owner, Eric Brady, reading about how the many properties and businesses have been run by his family for the past three generations. He likes the look of the cabins offered by the river, too. Private, but a window overlooking the river. Plenty of trees.

At that point, he’s made up his mind, and takes the leap of making an inquiry on the room. Along with the first and last month’s rent in advance. If the two weeks turned out to be two weeks too many, he could split and move on.

It’ll be an adventure, he tells himself as he packs everything he has left. He’d already sold and donated everything. Light traveling, he thinks, with nothing keeping him in the city he doesn’t live in anymore--in the beautiful city of San Francisco--he loads up his car.

He looks back once to look at the beautiful city, with all the iconic buildings. There wasn’t anyone to say goodbye to, he’d done that a long time ago. Which he’s more than thankful for now.

San Francisco hasn’t really been home in a long time. It had walked away from him, just like he’d finally walked away from Paul.

The city deserves better than the likes of him, and now that he’s gone, he can leave without an ounce of regret.

He gets in the car, and puts the radio on blast.

And walks away.

The straightforward route to Salem clocks in at about 33 hours. Sonny decides to stretch it out to a week. In his mind, the adventure is all about exploring, and definitely freedom. On the road, he can be whoever he wants to be, go wherever strikes his fancy.

Nobody here but him, he reasons, so no one to tell him Funyuns and a Dr. Pepper isn’t breakfast.

He watches snow fall outside his window at a Travelodge hotel in Berkeley, Missosuri, right on the border of Missouri and Illinois, because why the hell not. Takes the back roads, climbing mountains, driving back down again. And winds back west.

Chicago warrants a whole day on its own. A tour through Adler Planetarium, spending hours each in art galleries, and a to die for ham and split pea soup with a very delicious Shiraz to end that day.

Out of Chicago, the back roads take him through farms, vineyards, small towns, old homes, and developments that haven’t been built yet.

Because he wants to end the next day in Salem, he chooses a hotel near what he’s sure has to be not too far away, eating a continental breakfast that puts all others to shame, with powdered french toast and homemade syrups, to say the least.

He spends his last night traveling listing to the couple next door having very loud and vocal sex. Compared to the other couples he’s heard this far, he decides this couple takes the cake.

When his personal body clock wakes him up just before the sun comes up, he rolls out of bed to grab a shower. After checking himself out in the mirror, he concludes that, since it’ll be well known in Salem later today, a little sprucing up couldn’t hurt.

He pulls on jeans, a t shirt, a hoodie, laces on a pair of well worn shoes, and gives a friendly wave to the couple next door as he swings his duffle bag over his shoulder.

He goes to the vending machine for Nutter Butters and a Dr. Pepper, sitting for a moment watching the sky in the east set itself on fire, covered in pink and orange.

He drives south, right on the edge of town as the sun hits his car.

As he gets closer, his mind drifts off. Not yet, he shouldn’t worry about the practicalities, of what he’s going to do once he’s there.

He can always wait another day or two before showing up to move into his cabin, or let the owner keep the deposit and just not show up. Fate is in his hands, and no one else is taking that away from him again.

But he still drives right past the mountains. Feeling the pull, he turns away from his destination towards them. Time to look, he tells himself. Time to take chances.

His first view of Salem, the town he’d left so long ago, shines with the sun. Casting diamonds over the river’s surface.

Spring’s not quite here yet, but from what he can already see, it’s already getting antsy.

He wants to look at the town first. Scenery always has its pluses, but for spontaneity to turn into practicality, he needs to know what he’s going to do now, clients, and the demand part of supply and demand.

He quickly remembers the town square is the heart--which definitely makes sense. A pier, shops catering to all clientele.

Shops for the busy moms, the rich, the middle class. Gift shops, restaurants, very pretty hotels. Businesses, he notes, that are definitely holding their own.

People walk through the square or walk quickly. More come from all means of directions.

And houses, for those that live near the square, or apartments for those living in it.

It’s so quiet, especially compared to the bustle and hustle of San Francisco, but it’s definitely not boring. And so far, much of what he’s seen are clearly tourist attractions, but they’re not his client base.

He drives past what he later finds out is the DiMera mansion. Big, imposing fancy mansion just an arm’s throw away from the square.

He keeps driving, finally hitting the road next to the river.

So many houses--some of which could easily be summer homes, if presented right.

Man, what he could do if he could get his hands on the grounds around those homes!

Some slight traffic on the road, but not loud or middle finger inducing, which is another plus.

A woman with a baby in a sling, walking a small dog on a leash. Sonny glances back at them through his rearview mirror as the woman lets the dog go.

The dog lumps right into the shallow area of the river, landing with a small splash. Slowing down so he can watch the dog paddle, he almost misses the sign for Brady’s Properties reception.

The road eventually turns into gravel, and the trees feel like they’re closing in. It’s like a hideout--or the perfect place to commit a murder--when he comes to a neat looking house, with the reception sign.

It has a porch with a few rocking chairs, a table in between, a walkway with a very small front yard that’s more weed than grass, but it’s clearly been cut recently.

He sees lights on inside the house, as well as smoke from the chimney.

“Here goes nothing.” he mumbles, and climbs out of the car.


	24. Chapter 24

He walks up the graveled path--river rock, he thinks, it should be, with all the moss from the river--up the porch, where he can almost see lobelias in purple--very appropriate for by the river--making the foundation soft, and a mixture of pots adorning the doorway, with seasonal plants.

He starts to knock, before seeing the sign, _No need to knock. Come right in,_ so he does.

A man sits at a table, typing on a computer while a fire crackles. Eric Brady officially looks even better than his picture.

Very attractive, Sonny thinks, maybe somewhere in his 40s, dressed in beat up jeans, a sweater, and good work boots.

He looks up as the door closes behind Sonny. The big dog sleeping under the table opens its eyes, wagging its tail.

“Hey. Jackson Kiriakis?”

“Please, call me Sonny.”

“Eric Brady. Welcome to Salem.”

Eric stands, walking over and holding out a hand. Eyes sharp, adds to the welcome, along with a quick once over. “How was the ride here?”

“Oh, so exhilarating.”

Since the dog’s come over to sniff his shoes, tail wagging, Sonny reaches down to pat its head.

“Say hello to Tucker, the welcoming committee”

“He’s adorable.”

“He’s such a good boy. Coffee, tea? Or how about a soft drink, before we look at the paperwork?”

“Soft drink works.”

“I can do that. Take a seat. I’ll be just a moment.”

“Actually, I’ve spent most of a week sitting down. Is it alright if I just look around, on my feet?”

“Sure. You can join me if you want.”

A hallway leads from the office to a storage room where there’s sheets, towels, and blankets stacked on the shelves. Salt and pepper shakers, coffee pots, tea kettles, toasters, blenders, glasses, plates, and silverware.

Another room’s where the cleaning supplies are kept mops, buckets, even a few vacuum cleaners, and a variety of different cleaners, and rags.

“Bit of a neat freak, huh?” Sonny comments.

“It would be a complete pigsty otherwise. Last thing we want for guests.”

He leads the way to the kitchen. Small, but with a long table.

“Break room that doubles as a meeting room.” As he talks, Eric grabs two glasses from a cupboard, filling them with ice. “A housekeeper will clean your room between 8 and noon every morning. If you want it done earlier or later, let us know.”

“No, that works.”

“Your room has all the supplies you asked for. We can easily resupply if you pace an order, just give us about a 2 hour heads up. There’s also information in your welcome packet regarding groceries, restaurants, activities and hiking trails.”

Sonny looks out the window overlooking a patio as Eric pours their drinks over the ice. River rock, he thinks again. It’s gotta be river rock. Flower pots, maybe a trellis.

“Since you’ll be here for at least a month, I’m pretty sure you’ll get your fair share of exploring.”

Sonny turns back, taking the drink. “Yeah, I will. I just saw a woman with a baby in a.... ” he holds a hand in front of him. “And a small dog. Jumped right in the water. It looked so happy.”

“Well, that’s interesting. You just met my niece, Allie, and their son, Kyle. And their dog that thinks he’s a fish, Jughead.”

“So all your family's right here, huh?”

“That I do. Allie and her husband, Ethan. And my nephew will be here too. Will’s been living and working in Chicago since he came back from college in Switzerland. It’ll be so good to have him back home. And I have a boy and a girl--both in their 20s.” Eric rolls his eyes.

“It’s really nice.” The twist in Sonny’s gut doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. “Nice to have family.”

“Yeah it is, even if sometimes our day ends wanting to tear our hair out. You said you’re from the San Francisco area. That where your family is?”

“No, just my ex boyfriend. I left after I had to bury my mom.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

“Me too. It’s a really nice small town. I was looking at your brochures, and read up on everything I could, doubled with all the stuff on the internet. But I still had no idea what to think. It’s really beautiful.”

“I won’t disagree with you there. I guarantee you’ll enjoy your time here.”

So handsome, Eric thinks as he leads them back to the reception area. Slightly skinny, but not fragile. Dark eyes, hair cut short. Angular in the face and body, hands the clear sign of a hard worker.

Besides that slight sadness when he mentioned his mom, the guy looks like he’s bursting with energy.

They make easy conversation while they finish up the paperwork. Eric doesn’t ask the questions he wants to. Why is Sonny by himself, what does he do for money, what would he do if he had a whole month to himself. If a guest wants to tell someone the personal stuff, they will.

“All set. Follow me to your riverside cabin, and I’ll walk you through it.”

He takes the dog, who insists on riding with his head out the window. It’s no more than a quarter mile further up the river, behind Eric’s car. On the way, they pass by a beautiful house with a porch, so many windows, with a roofline that--in Sonny’s mind--is in some serious need of landscaping.

When he pulls up to the cabin, his heart starts pounding. After he gets out, he turns around in a circle, then one more time.

“It’s perfect. It really is.”

“Exactly what I want to hear.”

“I’m serious. The views from this place. I really wanted to be close to water. Not necessarily the ocean, but some kind of water. And this river exceeds my expectations by about a thousand, even after seeing it on the website. It’s perfect.”

“Ever gone sailing?”

“Nope.”

“Fishing?”

Laughing, Sonny shakes his head.

“You just might after a month. You can rent almost anything for the water in town. Or we can do that for you. Same goes for fishing gear and a license. Good hiking trails, maps.”

“First thing I’m gonna do first chance I get is sit on that porch with a beer and watch the sunset, all those colors shine over the river.”

“Sounds perfect to me. You an artist?”

“No, not at all. Must be a dream, getting to live here.”

“My whole life.” He leads the way--more river rock--to the porch, unlocking the door. “Welcome to your humble abode.”

It smells like blood oranges and wood polish. A bunch of logs sit in the fireplace, waiting for someone to light them, a couch facing it. A chair for a guest, another one in the corner.

A table--seems like long tables are the only ones worth having--provides pace for eating, as well as the pathway from the living room to the kitchen, clearly having been updated in the past few years.

It shines with stainless steel, beautiful countertops, dark wood cabinets. On the counter is a coffeemaker, toaster, as well as a tea kettle on the stove, along with a bowl of fruit on the table.

“It’s awesome.”

“More of what I love hearing. You’ve got two bedrooms, and I’m assuming you’ll be in the master. Second bathroom is right here.”

He waits for Sonny to look.

Small, but still usable with the shower, nice vanity, a vase of azaleas, soft towels. 

“And this here’s the second bedroom.”

This too, works for its purpose, with the dark duvet, covered bed, a colorful thrown at the foot, a dresser, closet space, lamps with decorative shades.

“Very cute.”

“It is, isn’t it? Now we have the master bedroom.”

Sonny’s heart pounds again. A four poster bed facing a huge window, with the river and the mountains on the horizon cover all of it.

“I get to wake up to this view every morning?” Sonny takes a breath. “Incredible. Mr. Brady--”

“Call me Eric. We’re neighbors now.”

“Eric, this is just amazing. There’s a chance I’ll never make it to the porch. I think I’m tempted to just stay in here and gawk.”

He waders around, touching his fingers over the duvet, and the windowsill. And lets out a small cheer when he sees the bathroom.

There’s a huge bathtub, along with a shower with jets, as well as a counter with copper sinks. The tiles hold earthy tones.

A basket of toiletries sits on the counter, along with more azaleas. Another huge window opens up to the view.

“We only upgraded a few years ago.” Eric tells him. “I decided what the hell.”

“You were right. You were absolutely right.”

“You might want to light a fire at night or in the morning. There’s some wood out back.”

He lists other things, as well as operating systems. Sonny tries to remember, but right now he’s in a daze.

“If there’s anything you need, or want to ask, you can call the number in the packet. I can help you bring your stuff inside.”

“No, I’m fine. All I need right now is my duffle.”

“Then I’ll just leave you to it. But please. You need anything, call.”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Now by himself, Sonny starts wandering again, into each room individually, then back through them again, walks out to the back porch, does a little jump in the air, walks out to the front, and does it again.

Screw the sunset, he thinks. He grabs the beer that’s already stocked for him, using the provided bottle opener.

He carries it outside, sitting on one of the huge porch chairs. He toasts the river, himself.

And what he hopes will be a very bright future ahead of him.


	25. Chapter 25

Seems reasonable enough to take at least two days to take everything in. Especially when that includes walking, making notes--in his mind and on paper--of the local plants and flowers, looking at the town’s geography, looking at the soil itself, getting a feel of what homeowners and landlords like for landscaping, their gardens.

That includes walking through the town square, chatting up the shopkeepers and customers.

It becomes a pattern to have a complete stranger come up to him and start talking to him like he’s known them all his life. His mom had always loved that about him. But Sonny thinks it’s just because people know he’s a Kiriakis.

But he quickly learns, in those two days, there’s the middle class, the legacies, and the rich. Sometimes that winds up being some variation of the three. In his mind, Salem, the locals, and the environment has plenty of room for his business.

He spends two more days visiting plant nurseries and home and garden centers, starting with a cute little shop on the edge of the square, called the Flower Palace, owned by a happily married couple with two kids, 4 grandchildren, and another set of triplets on the way.

They’ve been happily married for almost 30 years, having been high school sweethearts. He’d proposed right after their romantic night on Smith Island was ruined by a rainstorm.

He hits every store related to plants within the town’s entire perimeter, takes more notes, runs the numbers, drinks more beers on his front porch while he works out the details.

Dreams are always important, creativity moreso, but the details, the work, and a plan for an actual business is what’s going to make it real.

By the end of his first week in town, everything’s become more solid, all the details squared away. He wants to really work, and knows exactly where he wants to start.

He walks up to the reception area--gives him more time to work out what he wants to say in his mind. Most of that comes out in muttering, before he finally manages to make himself shut up when he sees Eric standing outside with the woman he’d seen with the baby and the tiny dog.

The dog’s nowhere to be seen, and Eric’s bouncing the baby on his hip.

“Hey, Sonny. Come meet the most adorable baby in the whole world, and his mom.”

The mom has blonde hair, worn slicked back, and blue eyes. She wears a suit just as sleek as her hair, low heels, which comes off as a little disheveled.

Sonny walks up the path. “Hi, I’m Jackson Kiriakis. Call me Sonny. I think I saw you and Kyle and Jughead taking a walk by the river when I came in on Saturday. If Jughead were in the Olympics, I’d give him a perfect ten.”

The baby, like all of them do with Sonny, throws her arms out, kicking her legs.

Laughing, Sonny refrains. “May I?”

“How about that.” Allie moves the diaper bag. “He’s friendly, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. If it’s alright with you--”

“You serious?” Sonny takes the baby, snuggling with him. “He already knows I’m gonna sneak him sweets whenever I can.” As the baby succeeds in grabbing Sonny’s short hair--what little he can grab--Sonny smiles. “I’m imposing, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all. Sorry. Nice to meet you. Sorry,” Allie apologizes again. “Our usual sitters in the ER.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry.”

“Possible snapped ankle. Not too serious, but not so easy when she’s a mom too. Uncle Eric--”

“We’ll be okay. I’m your backup. You go, we’ll be fine here.”

“I’m not worried about that, it’s just--thank you.” She nads over the diaper bag, combines it with a tight hug.

“Let me know when you find out how she’s doing, okay?”

“Will do. You’re the best. I gotta go,” she tells Sonny. “I’ve got an appointment in...a half hour.” she adds after looking at her watch. “There’s a chance he’s gonna spit up on you.”

“I do that all the time.”

With a laugh, Allie leans in to kiss Kyle’s cheek, then hops in her car. “Anything goes wrong--”

“Just go!” Eric orders. He watches Allie pull out, waving her off. “She’ll be checking on the babysitter if she has time before her therapy. They’ve been close since middle school.”

“Does Allie work at the hospital?”

“Yeah, she’s a therapist. Just like her grandmother. Child and family. You wanted to see me about something?”

“I was, but clearly you’re busy.”

“Not really, and this one’s a saint. I don’t care how many people try and argue with me, for my grandson, it’s the absolute truth. Come in.”

Grandson, Sonny notes, not great uncle. Interesting.

He follows Eric back in, where the reception area how has a baby pack and play area set up, plus a baby swing.

“You’re well equipped.”

“When I got the call from Allie, I went back to the house for a few things, including some very cute stuffed animals and toys.”

“You’re just an old teddy bear.”

“You know it.”

He settles the baby in the swing, giving him a stuffed dog, setting the swing on the lowest setting.

“Can’t believe he’s not even a year old, and he’s already walking. Now, how can I help you?”

“Actually, I’m here to talk about how I can help you.”

Eric lifts an eyebrow. “Why don’t we both sit?”

“Let me give you some background. I ran a landscaping business in California. After my mom died, I just realized I couldn’t be there anymore. It wasn’t the city’s fault. I just didn’t love it like I used to, and couldn’t stand to stay there, or in my relationship as it was, or anything.”

“What you did there, you had support.”

“Yeah, and with my mom gone, I was hit with a reality check about what my life really was, and I just couldn’t stand things staying the way they were. So on a whim, I gave my boyfriend the ultimatum of marrying me or breaking up with me. He wouldn’t marry me. So I sold the business, left the city, and came back here.”

“I didn’t know you were planning on coming back for good.”

“I didn’t know for sure until I made it here. I did some research, on the area and growing season, the plants, but I had to actually be here, to really see and get a feel of the town. I was gonna take two weeks so I’d know for sure, but I don’t need it.”

“Now you wanna start a business here?”

“I already have a license pending, have it all coming together.”

“Jesus.” Eric lets out a laugh. “You’re a firecracker.”

“I don’t need it.” Sonny repeats. “I still need the best location where I can set it up, but for right now, I’ve talked to all the town’s suppliers. The Max and Chelsea from the Flower Palace are the best, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are.”

“I’ve talked to lumber and stone suppliers, and others too.”

“Stone and lumber?”

“Walls, fences, patios, pavers--it’s all landscaping. Not just plants, though they’re a huge part of it.”

“Okay.” While Eric’s a bit clueless about it all, he knows a lot about people. Like he thought the first time he saw Sonny, he’s bursting with energy.

“If you want me to put in a good word for you--”

“No, not yet. I can give you a list of clients from California, references and everything, but it’s not the same as seeing my work in person. So I want to make you a deal.”

“I’m listening.”

“I have my riverside cabin for another few weeks. I want to, on my own dime, do some landscaping on the grounds. Time, materials, labor--all on my dime.”

Caution fights with interest. “What kind of landscaping are you talking about?”

“I drew up a sketch.” Sonny opens his case, handing over a drawing clearly done on the computer to Eric, then gets up to stand next to Eric to explain

As Sonny leans in, Eric can see a tattoo on his collarbone.

“There’s the hardscape, the walkway, the back patio all in river rock.” Sonny starts. “Rustic, but complete--and you don’t have to replace it every few years either. A pole light to make it attractive--makes it more welcoming. You want low maintenance plants.”

“The absolute lowest. I don’t need more plant homicides on my conscience.”

“I know you don’t. People assume they do all the time. But we can stick to native plants, with accents proven to thrive in this climate and zone. Some lobelias, to soften the foundation.”

Firecracker, Eric thinks again as he looks at the drawing.

“There’s some shade where I could do some currants, some blackberries--birds get the fruit, you get the birds. You’ll have some flowers right by both the woods and the river, and I’ll add wildflowers, like daffodils and azaleas for naturalization. There’d be all that color in different seasons for the guests. I’d also do--also easy to manage--pots mixed seasonals for the porch, patio.”

“What about watering?”

“Hoses, pots that water themselves. Very low maintenance.”

“Sonny, this is...energetic at the least. And even if I were to say yes, you can’t do this all on your dime.”

Sonny’s gaze meets with Eric’s. “I had an apartment. I sold it, along with the business. Then there was my mom’s life insurance. I already know how to run a business, and I have a plan. This is just an investment. If you like it, you can always hire me to do another riverside cabin. Tell them my work is legit. They can see it for themselves.”

Eric sits back. “You’ve run a business before, so you know what you put in it. You know the responsibility and pride of it too. Worst case scenario, you don’t agree with me on the vision once we figure that out. Best case, you actually do. And there’s plenty of wiggle room in between there.”

So young, Eric thinks, but damn is he confident.

“You’ll be taking all the risk.”

“I’m doing something I love, something I’m good at. I have a business degree, as well as one in landscaping. I’ve been in this field straight out of college. I’m very confident in my skills, enough to make this deal knowing you’ll like what you see. If you’ll let me.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a sales pitch.”

Now Sonny smiles in a way that lights up his eyes. “Part of being a Kiriakis.”

“If I say yes, when could you start?”

In his head, Sonny does a small pump in the air. “If you give the green light, I can have the river rock and builder’s sand I currently have on hold here the same day.”

“You have stuff on hold?”

Sonny’s smile only gets brighter. “I’m a hopeless optimist.”

“Why am I suddenly more nervous than you?” There’s something, Eric thinks, something about this guy. “Okay, Sonny, let’s do it.”

“I want to scream yes, but the baby’s asleep. I’ll just wait till I’m outside.” But he shakes Eric’s hand, hard. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“I’m praying I don’t.”

“No way in hell. I am damn good at what I do.”

“Will you need help? It’s gotta be heavy carrying stone.”

“I’m a lot stronger than I look, but I’ve already got a helper. The Max and Chelsea recommended Chad DiMera. Swear he’s a good worker.”

“Yeah, he is.” Eric agrees. “Mostly does odd jobs here and there. Prone to wandering from one place to the next, whenever it strikes him.”

“So I’ve been told. Talked to him yesterday already. Said he’d be willing to help, so I’ll call him.”

Sonny gets to his feet. “Thank you so much, Eric. I’ll send you my list of clients--call whoever you want on it. I shut down the website when I sold the business, but some of it is still up. I’ll send you the link.”

He lets out a breath. “Now I gotta go get started.” He goes straight for the door, before stopping. “I’m going to make a low-maintenance showcase.”

Eric sits, still shocked, hearing the echoing, “Yahoooo!” as Sonny runs back to his cabin.

Chad DiMera proves himself as a good worker. He likes singing or whistling as he works, doesn’t argue about his salary, and has no problem being paid in cash until Sonny’s business license comes through.

With his help, Sonny removes the old gravel, makes the already existing path bigger, and pours in the builder’s sand.

He wants the path to look more organic, so he rents a wet saw to cut some of the river rock to suit his needs. First time Sonny uses it, Chad shakes his head.

“Never seen a Kiriakis use a saw before, but I’ve definitely never seen one use that thing before. You’re really something, Mr. Kiriakis.”

Eventually, he comes around enough to drop the mister and call him Sonny just like everyone else.

Since the man’s twice as strong, and doesn’t complain about hard work, the path’s done in only two days.

“Here comes the fuzz.” Chad says as Sonny lays the level on the next piece.

Sonny looks when he sees the police car pull into the driveway.

The woman that gets out is definitely built. She’s not wearing a uniform, just jeans and a t-shirt.

Standing up, Sonny brushes off the knees of his jeans, hoping he doesn’t stink too badly after moving stuff around and putting stone down.

“Hey, Chad. Mr. Kiriakis, I’m Chief Williams, Eric’s husband.”

“Nice to meet you.” He takes a glove off to shake her hand. “I’m so grateful for this opportunity.”

“Couldn’t get away to take a look before now. And you’re already almost done with the walk. It looks really good.”

“Sonny here says it’s not gonna have any grass in the cracks either. He’s gonna put up plants instead.”

“Moss. You’ll have moss planted by somebody named Sonny Kiriakis--very lucky. We’ll finish up with the stone today.”

“I can definitely see the difference.”

“This doesn’t even cover it.” He smiles at her.

“Well what I’m seeing looks pretty good already. I came down to see for myself, and to tell you your business license came through.”

“Did it? Chad, did you hear that? We’re in business!” Sonny hugs Chad, making him blush slightly, then steps away to jump in the air.

“He’s a force to be reckoned with.” Chad tells Hope.

“I can definitely see that.”

It takes more than a week to lay out the patio, mortar the joints. Then he literally breaks ground.

In Chad’s truck--he’ll trade his own car for one just like it when this first job is done--they load up the chosen plants in the truck’s bed. For this, he insisted on sticking with Max and Chelsea. Nothing seriously fancy. Sonny picked out the pots, and the year rounds, and because he just thinks it’s a nice touch, a fairly sized wind chime he’d hang on a tree right by the river and on the edge of the woods.

He ends every single day filthy, covered in sweat, and loving every second of it.

After every project is done, he takes pictures. He needs to start building up a new website.

He digs, plants, places, prunes, edges, and spreads the yards of mulch Chad has in his truck.

Chad stands back as Sonny puts a plot on the front porch.

“It’s a masterpiece, Sonny. I can’t believe I helped make it happen.”

“You put your sweat and blood into this too--literally, especially a few times. That’s why I’m gonna hire you as my first official employee.”

“Oh, come on, Sonny.”

“Not taking no for an answer.” Sonny kneels to put more flowers he picked out in a pot. “You know I’m a fair boss. I know you’re a good worker too. You’ve got a good eye for this kind of work, which is why I’m upping your usual salary a whole dollar. Starting tomorrow.”

“You said we were done today. There’s nothing to do tomorrow.”

“Yes there is.” Please let that be true. “If we don’t, you’re coming with me to look at the house I had my eye on. If I buy it for my business, I need a greenhouse too. And somewhere to store my equipment.”

“You’re moving so fast it gives me a headache.”

“Just fill the paperwork tomorrow.” He looks at Chad.

Sonny’s well aware the guy works when he wants to as a man of many talents, and is in a serious relationship with his cousin, someone he sees every chance he gets.

“I never would’ve been able to pull this off without you. Not just the hard labor, Chad. I need the company, your keen eye, and your connections. So be here at 6 sharp, ready for work. Your Common Ground Lanscaping’s employee of the month.”

“I’m the only one.”

“I won’t for long, but you’re the first one, therefore the best. See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard, Sonny.”

“Just finishing the pots, giving them a nice soak.”

“It’s definitely a photo finish.” Chad repeats, getting into his truck.

He plants in the silence, just him and the small breeze from the river, the scents of the flowers from his flowerpots hitting his nose.

Once he’s watered the flowers, wandered around, then cleaned himself up--because damn is he a mess--maybe he’ll call Eric, ask if he can show up to see what he thinks of Sonny’s progress.

Once he puts the pot down, he sits, resting his chin on his hand, looking out on the rover. Lots of swimmers as late March approaches. So much green, with a celebration of wildflowers.

Yeah, cleaning up, watering the plants, and calling Eric sounds good to him.


	26. Chapter 26

Even as Sonny gets to his feet, he can hear people talking. Eric laughing--happy. Another man’s with it, warm.

He takes one look at his current state and thinks, Shit. I’m a mess. Oh well. Then walks over to meet them.

The man--not Eric--has his arm around Eric’s shoulders. They’re looking at each other as they walk, the love radiating off them plain as day.

Taller than Hope--easily--and somewhere in his thirties by Sonny’s estimate. A lot of blond hair, all messy and pouffy because of the slight breeze. Jeans covering up legs that could probably bust right through the ground, but he just paces alongside Eric.

Probably the journalist nephew home from Chicago. But nobody told Sonny how attractive he was.

The guy looks over then, seeing Sonny, giving Eric a small nudge.

“Sonny! Will, this is Sonny Kiriakis. My nephew, Will. He’s barely here 5 minutes, and I’m already dragging him out here. We just happened to be outside when Chad drove by. He said you were finished."

“Nice to meet you.” He looks down at his hands, decides they’re plenty clean, and offers a hand.

“You too. I wasn’t dragged, actually, but apparently Uncle Eric here’s been waiting for you to be done to check it out.”

“I know. He’s gotta be the first client that hasn’t tried looking, peeking, changed the design, or asked when I’d be done. And now you’re early.”

“What do you mean, early?” Eric asks.

“I still have some tools to put away, and I haven’t swept up the mess. But now that you’re here, just...please remember, if you don’t like something, I’ll change it. If you don’t like it at all, well, I’ll just rip everything out, then drown myself in the river. But leave that to me.”

Sonny can’t see Will’s eyes, but Sonny’s pretty sure they’re smiling.

“Let’s take a look, Uncle Eric, see if we can’t postpone the scheduled drowning.”

“Jesus. You two are ridiculous. Now you got me nervous.”

But Eric still rounds the curve towards the cabin.

Sonny doesn’t hold his breath--not exactly. All he does is mentally cross his fingers as he watches Eric stop and stair.

“See the--” then cuts himself off when Eric waves at him.

Then Eric covers his mouth with his hand.

“Oh please tell me that’s a good sign.”

“You did all this?” Will murmurs.

“Chad and I both did this. Eric--”

This time he’s cut off when Eric walks right back to give Sonny a hug.

“Oh geez. I’m covered in filth and sweat, and I stink to high heaven.”

“Shut the hell up.” Eric just hugs him tighter. “You don’t even know. At all.”

So Sonny hesitantly hugs back, looking at Will over Eric’s shoulder. “That’s good, right? Not even knowing?”

“Absolutely.”

Will sees the cabin, so familiar, yet completely transformed. Same building, sturdy, in a whole new setting that makes it charming and inviting.

The stone path is ambling--that’s the first word to come to mind--like it’s telling you to take your time. Shrubs adorn the edges of the porch, others come in and out between the cabin and the woods. He recognizes a gooseberry bush, probably the only one he could name, and can hear music playing.

He looks, finds a wind chime moving in the breeze. Flowers overflowing in flower pots in the porch. They look so happy.

“You repainted the chairs.”

“I wasn’t planning on that, actually, but once new things started showing up, they started to look faded. The river gets a dark color to it, so I thought, why not add it to the color scheme?”

Eric pulls back, keeping his hands on Sonny’s shoulders. “I just got so used to seeing what’s there. All the time. We’d have to update the interior, because it’s necessary. But this is something I’d never even considered. My kids--you met my kids.”

“They’re incredible. Ciara actually helped out a little bit.”

“They’d start to tell me, then I’d tell them to be quiet because I wanted to see it after it was done. I knew it was going to be better than it was. But I never expected something on this level of good.”

Eric turns to Will. “Take out your phone. Take some pictures we can send to your grandma Marlena and John. They’re going to flip, and you know it.”

“You haven’t even seen the back yet.”

“I forgot all about that.” Eric lets out a laugh, grabbing Sonny by the shoulder. “What’s in the cracks?”

“Irish moss.” Sonny explains as they walk. “Already clinging. You can walk right on it. Very easy to maintain, and it’ll fill in the cracks, add to the walkway.”

“It smells good too.”

“Added a few fragrants too.”

“Jesus, Will, look at this.” Eric moves away to step onto the river rock patio.

“You did this yourself?”

Sonny nods at Will. “Me and Chad.”

“Chad doesn’t know how to do something like this.”

“He’s a good worker, picks up new skills fast.”

“You even built an herb box. I love it.” Beaming, Eric touches the basil, parsley, sage, and even some rosemary. “I know a thing or two about them, even if I’ve never grown them.”

“I can show you. My thought is some of the guests will want to stay in to cook their own meals. And there’s a really nice kitchen inside. Tell them they can use the herbs. And you see the plant at the corner? It’ll grow into a fairly sized shrub. Smells awesome, and you can use it.”

“Painted the chair back here too.” Will notes.

“Better flow. I made the planters vertical to open it up. All the stuff here waters itself. There's a reservoir, and a wicking basket so the roots don’t rot. All housekeeping needs to do is check them every few weeks or so to fill the reservoir. And the plants can be changed with the season.”

“Picnic table and bench?”

“That was all Chad.” It makes Sonny smile to admit this. “He sanded it, stained it, even sealed it. It’s not ready for a showroom or anything, cause that’s not what we were after. But it still looks new.”

“Take some pictures, Will. I’m just gonna…”

As Eric wanders, Sonny starts to follow, before Will stops him with a hand on the arm.

“Give him some alone time.”

“Fair enough.”

“He loves it, all of it. All of us do, but for Uncle Eric, it’s his home, and his legacy and responsibility. You just highlighted that. It’s awesome. Even better, it looks like it belongs here, like it was always supposed to look like this.”

Sonny feels himself getting a little misty eyed. “That’s the highest compliment I’ve ever been given.”

Will pulls out his phone, taking off his sunglasses to get a good picture.

Sonny’s heart pounds only once. So there it is. “You have his eyes.”

“Huh?”

“Eric. You have his eyes.”

“Brady blue.”

“Shawn has his mom’s eyes in his dad’s face. Ciara has her mom’s eyes in her mom’s face.”

Will takes a few pictures before putting the phone down. “I’ve literally never thought of it like that, but yeah. You’re right.”

“Everyone’s so happy you’re coming back to Salem.”

“Just felt like the time was right. And you’re moving here too. I think the change is way bigger for you.”

“It felt like the time was right.”

Sonny likes Will’s smile. It’s a small one, slightly hidden. His nose is crooked, he thinks. He’d broken it at some point--and he definitely knows how that goes.

Eric finally returns, sighing loudly. “Okay, Will, I have a huge favor to ask you.”

“Okay.”

“Go back to the house for a bottle of champagne.”

“I have champagne.”

Eric turns his head towards Sonny. “Enough for three people to sit and talk over?”

“Conversation inducing champagne?” Sonny nods. “I can do that.”

“Good. Will, go help him. I’m just gonna sit and wait till you come back.”

“I love that he’s still out there.” Sonny says as they go inside. “I like having clients check while they’re looking, but he refused to.”

Sonny grabs the champagne, not needing to tell Will where the glasses are, or the bottle opener. “You put in a lot of time in the riverside cabins”

“You can’t live with my Uncle Eric and not work the riverside cabins. It’s the family business.” he adds as he gets the bottle open.

That Sonny definitely understands. But living with his uncle part is new to him.

What happened to Will’s parents? And now that Sonny thinks about it, he hasn’t heard a word about any siblings of Eric’s in town.


	27. Chapter 27

Will and Sonny take the champagne outside, where Eric sits with a smile at the table.

“I am definitely coming back tomorrow--unless that’s going to be a problem--to take pictures for your site.”

“It’s not a problem at all.” After pouring the champagne, Sonny sits down. “And there’s the added bonus of having all the soil swept away.”

Eric sips his champagne, looking at the flute. “I know a little about champagne, and this is pretty good. I don’t know anything about flowers besides what comes in a vase. I know a thing or two about trees and can recognize a lobelia.”

Eric sips again. “I know business, customer service, as well as how to raise a kid the right way. Adding business to what I can see right now, I know the second those photos go up on the site, and put them on the brochures, it’s almost a guarantee I’ll be seeing an interest in rentals for this riverside cabin. Taking that, along with everything else, into consideration, I just can’t let you do all this on your own dime.”

The second Sonny hears that, he goes straight from relaxed to on edge. Will can see it from right across the table.

“I thought we had a deal.”

“And now I’m changing it.” Eric says immediately. “And I know you have a lawyer who can do what I’m asking. If you’re half as good as a businessman as a landscaper, and I have a gut feeling you definitely are, you already have all your receipts, as well as an account of all your materials, time and work put into this project alone.”

“We had a deal.” Sonny tries again.

“It looks like,” Will fires back. “There’s about to be a renegotiation.”

“There is. These are my terms. I’m reimbursing you for the materials. As a licensed contractor, I’m guessing you got them on discount. I want the discount.”

Sonny relaxes his shoulders, but only slightly.

“Now there’s also the cost of labor to be taken into account.”

“Absolutely not.” Sonny picks up his champagne again.

“Yes there is. I’m more than willing to negotiate on your bottom line.”

“Chad’s the first employee of Common Ground Landscaping. His wages come out of my pocket.”

Will stops him. “You officially hired Chad?”

“He’s filling out a W-4 tomorrow.”

“Quite the miracle worker.” Will notes.

“We’re negotiating on the cost of labor.” Eric continues. “And if we figure this out, I’m definitely contracting you to do the other cabins too.”

Sonny’s mouth drops open, then closes again, as he closes his eyes. “Not scared to play dirty, huh?”

“Not if it means winning.”

“You’re fighting a losing battle.” Will advises. “Trust me, quit while you’re ahead.”

“I want that more than anything.” Sonny says pointedly at Eric. “You know I do.”

“That’s right, I do. And I only get dirtier from here. I’ve seen you looking at my house. Finish the riverside cabins, you can have it. Do for my house what you did here.”

“You bastard!” Standing up from the table, Sonny paces back and forth on the back patio.

He rakes a hand through his hair. “It’s amazing, and perfect. So completely untouched. There’s countless designs running through my head right now. You’re not playing fair at all.”

He sits down again, huffs. “Half. I’ll agree to half the labor. Right down the middle.”

“I think that’s reasonable.”

“And the paint you used on the chairs--that labor too. Pots, plants, labor, window box, wind chime. As far as I’m concerned, they’re gifts. I want you to have them, and I’m not taking your money for them.”

“Deal.”

Sonny stares at Eric, holding his hand out. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

After they shake hands, Eric holds on. “Get me the accounting tomorrow. How soon can you start on the riverside cabin?”

“Tomorrow.”

“As in 24 hours? Sure you don’t want a day off?”

“I really, really don’t. I work on designs at night. Hopeless optimism. Tomorrow.”

When he sees Sonny’s eyes start to water, Will sighs, looking towards the sky. “Jesus, we got another one.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me.” Now Sonny grabs Eric in both hands. “I made a real difference here, and I’ll do the same with the others. But this is my life, and you’ve made a huge difference in it.”

“But you’re gonna need more workers besides Chad once people see what you can do.”

“Already thought of that. I was actually thinking I could steal Ciara away from you.”

“Ciara?” A smile forms on Eric’s mouth even as surprised as he looks. “You sure?”

“She’s got good taste, good hands, and she actually likes it--a strong work ethic, which I have no doubt she gets from you. We can talk. I’m thinking I need more than just the accounting stuff.” Sonny looks to Will. “Know anyone in real estate?”

Now Will can see the tattoo, finds it as fascinating as Sonny’s eyes. “Not at the moment. But I can ask around. Why?”

“There’s this place for sale I wanna buy. If everything works out, I’m pretty sure I need someone to handle the property search, settlement, and all of that, don’t I?”

“Probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“Good to know. I was actually gonna look one more time, but now I’m gonna make an offer tonight. This whole thing has to be a sign, or pretty damn close to one.”

“The Horton cabin, right? I heard you were buying it. Remember that place, Will? This side of the river, but closer to the square?”

“A little.”

“Cabin itself isn’t much to look at, but I don’t need a lot of it. What it does have is 6.2 acres, which I definitely need. Greenhouse, toolshed, stuff like that. It’s gonna work. Anyway, back to the riverside cabins. They’re not gonna look like this.”

Eric jerks back. “But I love this. That’s what I want.”

“For this one. You don’t want your riverside cabins--homes away from home--to look exactly the same, like Stepford houses, like a development.

They should be unique to where they’re located, the view from their windows, the settings. Let’s say we’ll have a look and flow to it, but it won’t be immaculate. I have a few designs on my laptop. Why don’t I grab it now, so you can see? It’s only right you pick where I should start next.”

“Is he always like this?” Will wonders out loud.

“From what little contact I’ve had with him, yes is a pretty safe answer.”

“I’m sorry, if you don’t have time. I can always bring them tomorrow morning.”

“I have champagne. I have time.”

“Awesome! Back in a flash.”

Will frowns as Sonny walks away. “Does he even take a moment to calm down so he doesn't crash?”

“Not from what I’m seeing.” Eric smiles at Will. “I’m really glad to have you back home, Will.”

Will lays a hand on Eric’s shoulder. “So am I.”

Will’s room is the guest room in the old house. Same one he always sleeps in when he’s visiting. He knows Hope and Uncle Eric would be more than happy to have him stay here. But he’s finding a place anyway. If he’s really coming back, he’s back for good, and needs to reestablish himself here.

He needs to start looking at houses. No apartments like he’s been doing in Chicago. A real house. He’ll even hire the landscaper to do whatever he wants with the yard if he ends up buying one.

Perfect view of the river-- a necessity. Fair enough distance away from the town square, and family, where he can commute for his job at the Spectator.

That landscaper definitely made Uncle Eric happy, which already goes a long way towards earning Will’s respect. Plenty happy, after the family celebration meal--damn do they both know how to cook--that Eric had made them all go out to look at the riverside cabin.

And right then and there, under the moonlight, they got to see the lighting Sonny had installed. The lamppost, walkway lights, tiny lights under the eaves, front to back, adds to the charm.

Sonny had come back out, of course he did. Cleaned himself up, which he does an impressive job on. Then again, he’d still been intriguing to look at in a dirty t-shirt and jeans.

Intriguing, Will thinks as he stares up at the ceiling, instead of handsome like his Uncle Eric, the tattoo on his collarbone exposed again.

There’s got to be some kind of story there.

Sonny has a very nervous build, which Will figures suits him, as he seemed nervous all around to Will. Eyes so dark they almost read black, a few scars peeking out from his lower back.

Old wounds, Will thinks. Boy does he know how that feels.

Lost his mom on Mother’s Day a year ago, Uncle Eric told him. Sold everything he had, packed up, and left. That was either the ballsiest thing ever, or just being recklessly stupid.

So is his initial deal with Uncle Eric. Maybe he’s got both.

Will’s gut tells him Hope knows even more, but chose not to pry. He’s almost positive Hope would’ve run a background check, as a precaution more than anything else--since he's already watched Sonny with her, and has to assume Hope hasn’t found any red flags.

The guys like him, Allie likes him, Ethan too. The baby, along with the dogs think he’s their new best friend. So Will decides there’s no cause for alarm, either.

Plus, anyone who can talk Chad DiMera into a job with a fixed schedule has some kind of mojo. So he’ll store that away, even his brain doesn’t entirely agree.

He stands, going to the window.

He can still see the lights across the river, see the lights on the mansion he used to live in, lived in terror and pain.

Some other DiMera family lives there now. Not the ones that bought it once Stefano and Sami sold it, yet another one. He hopes any evidence from his life there was long gone by now.

As far as he knows, his mom never came back to Salem. He knows exactly where she is. Once she’d served her sentence, she’d moved to Crest Hill, where she visits her stepfather in Statesville every week. Never misses them, not even one.

Will’s never run into her, something he’s more than thankful for. Chicago’s big enough to forget she even exists. Or, at least it used to be. In the past few months, it had felt suffocating. However a good life he’d had there, however satisfying his job was, he’ll never truly be free of them if he can one day turn a corner, and Sami Brady is right there.

More than that, Stefano most likely will make parole the next time--which is coming up pretty fast. That had crawled all the way inside him and won’t leave.

For so long, he’d honestly believed he’d never be able to live in Salem again, with all the memories of all the terror and pain. Then he’d managed to convince himself he needs Salem, and all the good memories he’d built here, the people who were his true family.

He’d missed the birth of his nephew by a whole two hours because he’d lived in Chicago and couldn’t make it on time. He’d played basketball with T, but had never gone to an actual game. Only made it to one or two of Ciara’s softball games out of sheer dumb luck with his timing on his visits.

The little lady has a hold on him.

Standing, still looking at the lights, Will picks up the baseball--a replacement for the one he’d worn down so long ago.

They’re not coming back here, he thinks. Nothing left for them here. There’s a potential for everything for him here. All he has to do is grab it, make a real life out of it.

He walks back to his bed, ball in hand. Rubbing the stitching, he listens to the breeze sighing over the river, whispering through the leaves turned green with the season.

And sleeps.


	28. Chapter 28

Will was not expecting to bump into Sonny so fast. Salem’s not exactly Chicago, but it holds a few thousand people, that’s for sure, not counting tourists.

And yet, within a few days he finds him in his car on the road by the river, slowing down to wave.

Sonny pulls to a stop, making a gesture, so Will does as well, waiting for Sonny to roll the window down and lean out.

“Thought you’d be digging somewhere.”

“I was. Left Chad and Ciara with clearing and leveling the walkway. I have both stone and sand coming later today. Can’t get everything from the Flower Palace, so I gotta go to one of the bigger garden centers. I want a decent sized dogwood tree, to start with.”

Will gets a better look. “You expect me to believe you’re gonna fit a tree in that clown car?”

“Of course not. I’m buying a truck on the way.”

Will keeps studying Sonny through his window. “You’re on your way to pick up a tree, while also buying a truck.”

“Just ordered it this morning over the phone. Took me about 10 minutes, tops.”

“You--I really need to stop repeating everything you say just because I think it’s weird.”

“No it’s not. They have what I’m looking for, and they’ve got the papers. I go in, and poof! Like magic. I drive off and grab my tree, and then I move onto something else. Anyway, you got those papers back to my dad?”

“I...might have.”

“I need to stop. Let’s pull over.”

Since Sonny does, Will, still flabbergasted, just follows, getting out the same as him.

He’s wearing cargo pants, boots, and an unzipped jacket over a t-shirt.

“Your family accepted my offer, and I signed the contract.”

Never slows down, Will thinks again. “You’ve been seriously busy, huh?”

“Only way to be. So, should I have my dad call the Realtor? Salem Realty. Susie’s handling it. And have him do his lawyer thing? And that is a really awesome car, by the way. I don’t know much about them, but I know plenty of people who would kill to look under the hood.”

Sonny shifts to study the sleek BMW. “Yep. Perfect bachelor’s car.”

“I am a bachelor.”

“I just need a truck. But if I could have a snazzy car too, this would definitely be top 5. Anyway, is my dad okay to handle the deal?”

“I think so. But if you want everything to go without a hitch, cause Susie’s known me forever, I got some conditions.”

Now Sonny studies Will, looking at him suspiciously. “You’re not even a lawyer, and you’re giving me conditions? You get that from Eric?”

He likes this guy, Will thinks, because he makes Uncle Eric so happy. But now, Will realizes, he just likes Sonny, period.

“Maybe he actually gets that from me. Here’s the deal. I want to help, free of charge.”

“I don’t really need--”

“Well, I do. I’ve spent all these years as an investigative journalist. Don’t know much about law. I want to write a piece on you. I'm trying to start my own magazine. Haven’t even written my debut article. I need something exciting to write about. Just like when you needed to dip your toe in with the Brady Properties. So I want to tag along.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“And you can pay me back with a free consult.”

Now the suspicion--man those eyes are gorgeous--turns into interest. “A consult for what?”

“I want to buy my own house. I’ve also been really busy this morning, and on my way to look at one now. I’ve already looked at another one, and I think it’s the one, but I wanna see a few more before deciding.”

Sonny holds up his hand. “It’s the one way up the river. The one that looks like it’s been here longer than all the others combined, right outside town. All the uneven ground with the dropoff, and a view people would sell their own internal organs for.”

Well, Will thinks. I’ll be damned. “Why?”

“Because like your car, it’s amazing. I saw it myself--just for the sake of looking at it, because that’s not what I need for my business. I did feel something in my gut, but I need something more spread out, and closer to the Town Square. Not to mention the price. Only selling it because he got transferred out of the country, the kids have moved out, and she’s a free spirit that can work anywhere, and she has family out of state.”

“How do you know?”

“Cause they told me. People feel compelled to do that. Was I right?”

“Regardless, I’m still considering it.”

After easing up on the penetrating look, Sonny beams. 100 Watt smile. “Buy it so I can put my landscaping touch all over it. It’s really nice now, but I can make it just as beautiful as the view. Consults are always free, for anyone who asks.”

“Do you take everyone’s breath away?”

“Don’t think so. I gotta get going. Susie, the same woman handling the house you should buy. We can work out the rest later.”

“Sonny?”

Sonny stops, one hand on the door.

“Where did the scars come from?”

“Ex husband hired a lunatic to stab me in the back. What about your nose?”

Will’s first instinct is to lie--just a knee jerk reaction. Say something that obviously isn’t true, just to get people to back off. 

But then the word’s out before he can stop it. “Stefano.”

Sonny sighs. “You win this round.”

Then Sonny hops back in, driving off.

Looks like people are compelled to talk to him, Will thinks. And more than that, Sonny was right. Will absolutely should buy the house. Why should he even bother looking at others when he knows that one--Sonny was right about that too--gave him a gut feeling.

Looks like two properties are being bought today.

He pulls out his phone, standing in the same spot right on the road, and makes Susie’s day.


	29. Chapter 29

Will goes back to the square to sign the contract, picks up some pizza, and takes Allie out to lunch in the empty office space he’d bought right in the heart of Horton Town Square.

They sit on the floor, eating their pizza and drinking warm soda.

“We’ll be able to do so much more on an actual table, once you really set up shop here. More than enough room for your own private office, a few colleagues, your journalism library, even a room for meetings. There’s even a mini kitchen.”

“It’s gonna work out. We just have to see if I do.”

Sitting in her bare feet, Allie looks around, “You bought your own office space for your new magazine, and a house! I still can’t wrap my head around that.”

“Neither can I. I don’t do things like that.”

“What? Things like buying a house?”

“Things like impulse buying. The office is one thing. But I just bought a house, a real life size house, completely on impulse.”

“It’s a really nice house, or it looks that way from all the way right outside of town. I’ve never been inside it.”

“It’s incredible, but still. For just one person, it’s still a lot.”

“You’re not the only one.” Allie points. “You have a big family, so we expect you to have us all over as often as humanly possible.”

“Well, if I’m being honest, if it wasn’t for that landscaper, I probably wouldn’t have done it at all.”

“Who, Sonny? I like him. He’s...” Searching for the right word, she swishes her drink. “Contagiously intriguing.”

“That’s one description that comes to mind. Pretty accurate too.” he decides.

“But what does he have to do with all of this?”

“Nothing, actually, but one second he’s talking and you can actually see it. Or maybe you don’t but you still nod along. He just bought the Horton house just this morning, asked if his dad was okay to handle the deal, and next thing I know, I’m telling him about this office, and the house, and he’s talked me into buying it. He was literally on his way to buy a truck while also buying a tree.”

“Okay...”

Will grabs another piece of pizza. “No no, like he ordered it the usual way, and he bought it, just like that, and bought a tree, and brought it all back. He has Chad and Ciara on his payroll.”

“Oh yeah, cause there’s no school. Well, if he talked you into it that easily, good for him. Because you’re going to live right outside of town, work in the square, and you’ll be closer than ever. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, and everything about this, more than I can ever say.” Will reaches out a hand to lay on Allie’s. “There’s a good chance he’s going to make parole this time.”

“I know. It’s been 10 years, Will. It’s a pretty long time. Maybe not nearly enough time for us, but still pretty young. She hasn’t come back, not even once. Hope would’ve told us if she had. There’s no reason to believe he’s gonna come back, either.”

“She still goes to see him, every single week.”

“She cares about him.” At Will’s noise of disgust, Allie pushes. “She does. Remember how--even after she’d cracked to get a lesser sentence--she still testified _on his behalf_ at his trial? Swearing on a Bible that what was going on between them wasn’t violence, just discipline? It’s not healthy, or even real, but it is to her. Maybe to both of them.”

“It’s obsession.”

“That it is.” As she speaks, Allie turns her ring around. A simple gesture, Will thinks, he’s seen her do before whenever their parents come up in conversation. “And their dependence on each other is horrible and destructive. We were just afterthoughts, just to make them look good.”

“It was always about making them look good.” Will adds. “About how they look to the townsfolk, and their own disgusting relationship.”

“I’m sure they never even gave us a second thought.”

“You’d probably be right.”

“Is that why you came back now, because you think he’s getting out?”

“Partly.”

“Still protecting me?”

“Always.”

“It goes both ways, Will.”

When Allie heads back to work, Will wanders around his office space. He can probably use some of the furniture from his apartment, in storage right now.

His desk would work. Once he gets other colleagues to join him. Once he has actual articles to write about.

Jesus, what the hell is he doing?

He’s been an investigative journalist his whole career. Yes, he’d written a few puff pieces here and there for friends, and he’d done whatever he could to help with the Brady Properties and Allie’s services as a therapist, but his focus had been on exposing bad guys for who they really are, for the whole world to see.

And he’s damn good at it.

Now? Traffic patterns, sponsored content, more puff pieces. Definitely stuff a small town needs to know about, but who even knows if people will listen?

He walks to the window, looking out at the other shops, restaurants, all the people taking in the warm day. Some he actually knows, others not so much. He doesn’t know the guy hanging flower baskets on a stepladder.

Does he need that? He has a nice front, maybe he needs a flowerpot, to make it look nice?

Good way for Sonny to get his end of the deal--then Will doesn’t have to worry about it so much.

Maybe he’ll put comfier chairs at the desks--or a couch in what he’ll use as the journalism library, or meeting room. Most of his furniture is the same taste as his car.

Bachelor.

Maybe he’ll buy himself a more journalistic desk, with some journalistic art to decorate--walls he’s going to need to paint besides eggshell white.

He’s always worked in cramped, busy spaces for so long, he has no idea what he’s going to do with all of this room. Or time.

He’ll just have to fill both of them at once.

Will watches as a very pregnant woman pushes a kid down the sidewalk. He starts to turn, so he can figure everything out, when it hits him.

He runs out the door, stepping right outside. 

And his first thought is, _Oh My God!_

“Mia McCormick!”

The woman looks his way, does a double take. Her way of saying Oh My God, Will figures. “Will!”

Will walks down the sidewalk, pulls her into a hug. She smells like baby powder, he realizes, and oddly, the one in her gut kicks him.

“My God, Mia, look at you!”

“Baby girl coming out in May.”

“You look incredible. You really do.”

“I’m a fatass, but I feel good. And you? All I can say is yummy. You definitely grew up. God, Will, it’s good to see you. I heard you were back in town.”

“I didn’t know you were, though. Didn’t you move to Springfield?”

“Yeah, and it’s been great. But I missed Salem, my family, and I just decided I really wanted to raise the kids here. My husband Doug was all for it.”

Still beautiful, Will thinks. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”

“Ridiculously happy. We just opened Doug’s Place. My husband’s the chef, and when we decided to make the move back, we wanted to open our own place. You gotta stop by for a meal on the house some time. Remember the Cheating Heart?”

“Of course. I took you there once, before--” He stops himself, wincing, clutching his chest.

“Will! Are you okay?”

“Just hits now and again. My heart broken in two.”

Mia’s face clears as she laughs, and swats at him playfully. “Listen to that. Doug’s Place replaced the Cheating Heart. Now it’s a classy restaurant. New everything. Got an incredible selection of craft beers. Please say you’ll come, Will.”

“Absolutely. And who would this young man be?”

“That’s my Jack. Say hi to Mr. Brady.”

“It’s Horton.” Will corrects as he crouches.

“Right, I forgot. I’m sorry--”

“No worries. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Jack.”

The little boy smiles at him, probably isn’t even 3, wagging an action figure in his face. “My Superman.”

“And just as strong as you.” Still crouching, he looks up at Mia, thinking of that night, a kiss under the stars. “You’re a mom.”

“Yes I am. And you’re an investigative journalist.”

“You don’t by chance need an article written, do you?”

“Actually, yes.” She rests her hand on her belly, like all pregnant women seem to know how to do. “I’d really love it if you could write a piece about Doug’s. We want to leave something behind for our kids, and getting our name out there would really be helping us out.”

“That’s pretty smart and responsible of you. I’ll start writing it right away, then you can see it in print.”

“Does that mean you’ll come by so you can give it a fair review?”

Will gestures behind him. “Just got myself some office space. Don’t even have a computer set up.”

“Here’s what I’ll do. Hand over your phone, and I’ll add my number, along with the number for Doug’s. Once you’re all set up, give me a call. That’ll give me and Doug more time to get the menu ready anyway.”

After she adds both contact numbers, she beams. “Wait, are we gonna be your feature article?”

“Actually, after family, you’re neck and neck. I got another one a few hours ago.”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” They laugh about that for a few minutes, before Mia finally says, “Come here, Will.” She reaches for him, giving him a small kiss on the lips. “You were the first guy I ever fell in love with. I really want you to meet Doug. He’s going to be the last.”

“Seeing you just made my day, Mia. And that’s not a lie.”

“Then make the rest of it count too. Now Jack and I, and Carrie, or Caitlyn, or maybe she’s a Charlie,” she adds, rubbing her belly again. “Have to go. Give me a call, you understand? And if you don’t show up, I’m gonna ask why.”

“I’m counting on it. Bye.”

He watches her go, looking back at his office, as well as his open door.

What the hell, he thinks. It’s all going to be just fine.


	30. Chapter 30

After a week, Will’s made real progress. Since Uncle Eric and Allie were very opinionated on paint color and decorations, he lets them pick, choose, and debate over all the little details.

Then they just give in to what he wants.

He hires painters, buys furniture in Chicago and online, carefully considers the art displayed in local shops, and asks Sonny to look at the front, see if he can do anything about that.

A few days later, he drives out to meet T--his IT guy for the office system. So what if he himself is a whiz? T does it for a living, and there’s no one Will trusts more--and finds his office’s front decorated with a bench that looks like it was built from a mighty tree and polished by fairies, and a pot of wildflowers.

Another person that doesn’t grow moss, he thinks as he steps out of his car. And of course it’s perfect. He really hopes he doesn’t have more flower homicides on his hands.

He walks up, pulling on the note Sonny apparently put on the door.

There’s a list of the names of the flowers--which he’s already forgotten--clear instructions for how to handle the self watering part, and as agreed, the cost of the bench.

_Thank you for the key. The pot on the porch, as well as the flowers, the money tree in the reception area, as well as the bamboo plant for the client restroom are completely pro bono. If you want different indoor plants than the ones I put in, I can tell you right now how wrong you are. There’s a really small patio out back. Please seriously consider a small table with a little umbrella, a few chairs, and maybe a few planters. Give it some thought._

_Just so you know, I love your paint colors._

_SK_

Will starts unlocking the door, just to see what the hell Sonny’s gotten him into as far as plants go, then turns when he hears his name called.

Not T, T’s dad. Will’s had dinner at his house two nights ago, to really catch up with T, Kaye and Richard.

“Hi! You wanna come in, see what’s planned next? T’s supposed to be in here in about 15 minutes.”

“I do.”

He wears a simple red shirt, with good shoes. His hair, cut shorter than he’d seen it before.

He remembers thinking as a teenager how handsome he was for a dad.

Hell, he still is.

“Love the bench. Really nice entrance.”

“Thank the landscaper.”

“Really clever guy, huh? I went out to see the riverside cabin he finished, and the one he’s almost done with. I just might talk to him myself. Wow, Will, this is really nice.”

He steps inside, looking.

The walls are a few shades above navy blue. He hasn’t hung any art yet, but he put his old desk so it angles just so that whoever sits at it will be facing both the door and the window. Instead of a couch, which he’d decided would be better used in the resource library, he’d used the chairs in his old living room, oversized, and an even lighter blue.

The plant--labelled by a sticky note on the flower pot--is about 3 feet tall with a thick trunk. It stands in the corner where the light shines right on it.

He pulls off the note. “It’s a Chinese money tree. It’s good in bright lights, not a lot of maintenance. And it’s supposed to bring good fortune.”

“Sonny Kiriakis strikes again.”

“Yep.”

“Nice touch. I know how busy you are, and once T shows up...So.” he hands Will a manilla envelope.

“What’s this?”

“My resume.”

“You...seriously?”

“You need someone with office experience, who knows a thing or two about computers, and hopefully, knows a thing or two about working in a newspaper office. I did, what feels like another lifetime ago.”

“I had no idea.”

“Another lifetime. Here, I helped T set up his IT and security company. And...it’s all right there in my resume. I didn’t say this at dinner because that wouldn’t have been fair to you. Now it’s just us.”

“I didn’t even know you needed a job. How does ‘you’re hired’ sound?”

“No, Will. Read my resume first, give it the same thought as everyone else.”

“But I know you personally. I know you’re a steady worker, just like I know the person sitting at that desk needs to be a steady worker. People come in or call, and they’re trying to get front page news, or stir up trouble in town, or they never got justice and want the truth exposed. I know I can count on you. I’ve always depended on you and Kaye.”

His face is stubborn, in a way Will doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. “Don’t give me the job out of obligation.”

“I want someone I know I can trust. Just say yes, and we’ll figure out your paycheck and everything else.”

“Check the resume, look at my references. You can trust me, Will, so listen to me when I tell you to do this right.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’ll leave you to it. And that?” He gestures to the tree. “Really completes the room.”

Will decides he’s right. For now.

Now alone again, he takes the resume back--looks in the bathroom, seeing what he assumes is the small pot. The note on it proves it, along with the instructions. Very low maintenance.

He walks back to his office area, seeing yet another note on his new journalistic desk. The note tells him exactly what plant he’ll need for it, why, and where.

Curious, he looks at the attached bathroom--if you could call the closet space that. But there’s a shower in the corner, so he could rent the space out as an apartment.

No note to be seen.

But there is one in what’s going to be the resources library, and another in the stuffy kitchen. Frowning, he looks out the window to what only the most optimistic would be dumb enough to call a patio.

In Will’s eyes, it’s nothing more than a slab of concrete.

But Sonny’s right, it can hold a small table, a few chairs. Nice place to take a break or finish the day.

Possibly.

But for right now, he goes back to his office--deeper blue, distinguished, cause, hello, journalist.

He looks at his recently bought desk, back to the less offensive window, and opens his best friend’s dad’s resume.

About 15 minutes, T walks in. “Hey, man.”

“Hey.” Will looks up.

“There’s a tree out there. Pretty sweet.”

“Yeah, I guess. Guess what? Apparently I’m hiring your dad.”

“My dad? For what?”

“As my receptionist, or something.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Did you know he used to work for a paper?”

“Kinda. Wow.” T plops down on one of the chairs, kicks out his legs, crossing his ankles. “Cool. He didn't say.”

“I just looked at his resume.”

“My dad has a resume?”

“A very good one. With you as a reference.”

“Really?” T’s smile gets bigger. “Cut my hair and change my name.”

“He helped you with your business.”

“Damn right. Never would’ve gotten off the ground without him. Setting up the books and everything, design the website. Does Mom know?” T blows it off once he asks. “Of course she does. They’re a package deal. By the way, I got a good look at the cabin the new guy and Chad did, and the one they’re doing now. New guy is something else.”

“What, you mean Sonny?”

“Hot for a guy. Like in a down to earth way. Like someone you’d call yourself lucky to be with. And I’m pretty sure he’s into dudes too.”

“Huh. Three whole days you went without mentioning the fact that I’m gay, or that someone else was, and I should hook up with them.”

“I have my own girl, and I’d never stray from her. But if I was gay, I would totally throw myself at him.”

“So what do you say to some data, communication, and security?”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

He hangs with T for a while, answering questions about what he needs, shoots the shit, watches his oldest friend do what he does best. Then he grabs his laptop to write up a formal employee contract, with its complete job description.

He messes around with it for a bit, lets it be while he takes deliveries on more furniture, and office stuff.

Goes back to it, reads it, then emails it to his new receptionist.

Now if he can just get himself an intern for the summer, he’d be set.


	31. Chapter 31

In his own business, Sonny carefully criticizes the chairs’ positions--recently painted, now finally dry--just put on the back porch.

He sent Chad over to the next riverside cabin on his list to start removing all the gravel while he finishes up on this one.

The only thing that’s the same with all of them is the lamppost. Makes it look like they all go together, in his mind. And he’s hoping once they’re all finished, Eric would consider naming them instead of the impersonal number system, so they can add signs.

But everything else? Completely unique to each cabin.

Now he has to sweep everything up, and check the lighting one last time, and boom.

He turns once he hears a call pull up, waiting once it pulls into the driveway. A younger woman gets out, young, Sonny notes, mid to late 20s. Tough looking body in jeans, dark hair surrounding a fierce face.

“Mr. Kirikais?”

“Sonny Kiriakis. How can I help you?”

“That’s what I’m here for. Lani Price. I heard you were hiring.”

“Depends. You wanting a job?”

“Depends.” Lani smiles. “I am particularly interested in this kind of work. I even have a resume. Not a lot applies, but I did add how I’ve been gardening with my grandparents every year since I knew how, and even know how to build fencing. I’m good with stones too. Built one for my parents a couple years ago. Not scared to get my hands dirty.”

“Can’t afford to be in this job. Do you have a job right now?”

“Over at the Salem Inn. Office stuff. Went to business school, but truthfully, I really can’t stand it. It’s not the people,” she’s quick to add. “It’s a really nice place to work, but I can’t stand being inside all day, every day. I’ve only been at it for a year because I promised.”

“So you mean what you say.”

Lani lifts her shoulders. “My words would mean nothing if I didn’t. I’ve seen your work on the other riverside cabin, and this one too. I want to do that too. I think it’s right up my alley.”

“Can I see your resume?”

“Thanks for considering it.” She hands it over.

“Before I do that, let’s give it a trial run. Tell me what you honestly think about this cabin, and why.” Sonny gestures to the cabin behind him.

“I’m going to go with amazing. And I think you went with the blue on the chairs because you wanted them to stand out, with the fuschia in the lobelias.”

When Sonny motions for him to keep talking, Lani takes a breath, then lets it all out.

“I think you were attempting to go happy, and went a lot softer with the weeper and the Cornelian cherry dogwood. You’re using native plants, so there won’t be a lot of fussing. You’re looking to make it look like they grew up here themselves. I like the state along with the moss. I used lemon verbena in our own place.”

“Nice choice. Take my gloves, I still have pots and planters. You can take care of the porch.”

“With pleasure. Which plants do you want?”

“Your choice. I’ll look at your resume.”

Lani bites her lip. “This is a test, isn’t it?”

“See what calls out, then we’ll take it from there.”

As Lani works, Sonny sits in one of the chairs, reading the resume. Business classes, good grades, working in the office during her school years along with summer. She’s added pictures of the mentioned walkway--impressive work--the fencing, and a few gardens.

Sonny walks inside, calls a few of the references.

When Sonny comes back out, Lani sits on her heels with a look Sonny would recognize anywhere. The satisfaction of getting to plant.

“Looking really good. Nice mixture of plants, colors and heights. Which is good, cause as of tomorrow, the cabin’s gonna be booked. Help me with the planters for the patio, then we can get cleaned up and be finished.”

“More than happy to.”

“Awesome.” Sonny reaches out a hand. “Welcome aboard.”

“Wait, I got the job?”

“You got the job. Let’s talk details while we keep planting.”

Sonny’s settlement gets pushed a full week, but his time still overlaps. To make room for guests, he moves from his own riverside cabin to another one until the deal’s finally sealed.

With Lani working two days a week until she could hand in her two weeks notice, and Ciara working the weekends and after school--softball games or practice--they wind up finishing three more riverside cabins before Sonny even has his house keys.

With the Brady Riverside Cabins completely booked, he shifts his own crew--that’s right, he has a crew!--to reception, where he wants to go big and bold. He needs his new mini excavator, a shit ton of heavy lifting, loads of dirt, but he winds up making what he thinks is a pretty impressive rock garden.

“Masterpiece.” Lani tells him.

“It’ll be a Magnum Opus in a few weeks. We gotta finish by tomorrow. Best thing we can do is move to Cabin 9--no booking anyone for it until next weekend. Finish up the work with the stones, so we don’t disturb the guests with the cutter. Hold off on painting, but definitely get shrubs in before someone rents it. Then we can start on Eric’s house, but keep coming back as the other ones open up, even for just a few days.”

“The man works us to the bone.” Chad remarks as he shovels dirt around some roots. “This would be so much easier if I didn’t like him.”

“You’re just mad because you’re actually good at it.” Sonny throws back at him.

“That I am. Always liked flowers as much as the next person, but now it’s like my dream. And you know something else? Now I got my girlfriend asking me why I never paint anything nice for her. Can’t escape it no matter how hard I try.”

However much he complains, Sonny can see for himself the look on Chad’s face he gets from planting over and over.

Much later, after shoveling sand, laying down stone, digging holes, he drives up the narrow road, parking his truck in front of his new house.

What he sees when he gets out, stands, looking at the potential. So much land to clear, dirt to move, spaces to build and plant. A nice view of the mountains quiet in the setting sun, some woods darkened by the shadows. And if he moves closer, he can see the edge of the river.

He can see it, pictures in his mind, the walls he wants to build, for the tool sheds and greenhouse, the driveway he wants to pave, the color that comes with the shrubs, a garden for cutting, another for in the shade.

He’s got nothing but time to plan, make things happen.

Because he’s standing completely on his own two feet, in front of a house that now belongs to him.

He makes his way back to his truck for the supplies he’d grabbed.

Another two trips, he walks around the main floor. He can make it cozy in the living room--once he actually buys furniture. And the small room under the stairs, with some work, can be completely transformed into something cozy as well.

As for the kitchen...well, he can cook well enough, so he can work around the old appliances. And he can paint the cabinets something happy, find a cool table--or build one himself--and a few chairs.

Small counter space, he can admit, and the ugly countertops are in serious need of help. Not to mention the wallpaper--a splash of neon orange and lime green flowers--is going the first chance he gets.

But the windows all over the house let the light in, showing off the view, and with no neighbors, he’s planning on leaving them naked.

And he’s in love with the flat right outside the kitchen door. He can build a patio, plant a garden for the kitchen. You don’t have to be a professional chef to appreciate a kitchen garden. Plenty of sun, maybe some kind of solar water thing.

His house, Sonny thinks, and hugs himself. He can do whatever the hell he wants with it.

He goes upstairs, finding two small bedrooms and one bathroom. He picks the room that was front facing, and decides the second one will be his office.

The office in question already has his computer and station, a chair, two more for potential clients, and a money tree striped in bold colors.

Thankfully, oh so thankfully, there wasn’t any wallpaper in here, and could just paint the walls a relaxing lilac, the trim a clean white.

But the bathroom? Wallpaper again. Fish, so many fish, with big eyes and swimming all over the walls. Whoever owned it before him had left a shower curtain, which had, you guessed it, more fish.

It’s disturbing.

He’ll fix it, but right now he has to live in the fish bowl, with the vanity that’s falling apart and a ridiculously small sink, and a toilet that obviously isn’t set right, judging by whenever he sits on it.

Beats camping, he tells himself as he walks into his bedroom.

He has a bed, or the equivalent of one with a new mattress and box spring, with new sheets and pillows. He’s got a nice view from the window, which is worth all of it tenfold.

He still needs time to go buy furniture and fill everything else out. And a fair amount of time, and even more fair effort, to get rid of the abomination of a wallpaper.

In here it runs black and white, in a style he’s pretty sure is called flocked. He supposes this wouldn’t be out of place in the Kiriakis mansion, but to him it’s just too girly for him. It’s almost worse than the fish.

He washes the whole day off, dressing himself in cotton pants and an undershirt to sleep in. In the kitchen, he starts heating a frozen pizza.

Frozen pizza and microwave popcorn should be their own food groups, in Sonny’s opinion.

He carries it, along with a glass of wine up to his office, turning the music on--all the way up.

And proceeds to spend a very satisfying night working on plans for his house and headquarters.


	32. Chapter 32

While Sonny eats his frozen pizza, Will sits on a stool at the bar in Doug’s Place. Mia wasn’t lying about the craft beers, and plenty of townsfolk, combined with tourists keeps the staff fairly occupied.

It has that incredible feel of a nightclub, a lot of skeek chrome, dark blue lighting, a bar with about half a dozen drafts on tap, shelves covered in bottles.

He hasn’t moved to the dining area, but from what he’s seeing from the bar, business is booming.

Since the highlighted beer tonight is Moody Tongue Sliced IPA, Will decides to give it a try. Kaye, sitting next to him, drinks a Three Floyds Dark Lord.

The woman, one that Will always considers the one that helped save his life, looks really good. Time has made her hair darker, but it looks good on her. Always with the ehealth and fitness, now she wears a FitBit. The shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, fits over her broad shoulders, and strong arms.

Clearly, a gym is never too far away.

They talk weights for a while, setups for a home gym. Once Will moves into his new house, he has an entire lower level, and has every intention of installing a home gym.

As easy as if they’re old friends, they start talking about townsfolk.

“So I guess you know Doug.” Will starts.

“Yeah. Nice guy, for sure. He and Mia spent a lot of time on this place.”

“It shows.”

Kaye cocks her head. “You still carrying a torch for her?”

“No way. But a part of me will always love her, considering she was the first, and probably the only, girl I thought I was falling for. Definitely the only one to break my heart. It’s good knowing she wound up with a good guy, and they have this all set up here.”

“What about yours?”

“Getting closer.” Since they’re right there, Will grabs some nuts. “On both sides. Can’t believe Richard’s on my payroll. I still think of him as the carpool dad, making me and T an after school snack, telling us to not track mud in the house. Now he’s basically running the place all by himself.”

“We’re basically empty nesters, with T getting his own place.”

Like Will, Kaye looks towards the TV when there’s a few cheers.

“He’s been wanting to work for a while now, just never found anything that really gets him out there. And then it was there. You were there. It’s really good to have you back, Will.”

“I didn’t even know if I could say this and actually mean it, but it really is good to be back.”

“What about that house you just bought?”

“You know, when I’m here or in the square, or at my Uncle Eric’s, or Allie’s, all I have to do is think about it, and I’m already thinking I was out of my mind.” Still shocked at himself, Will munches on some more nuts.

“Then once I’m there? It’s freaking incredible. Everything about it just works so perfectly. Once I move everything in, have everything organized, I’m going to have everyone over. Test the backyard grill that came with it.”

“Tell me the time and place, and we’re coming.”

“You know, T showed up, did the whole system thing--music, lights, TVs, security. I can do everything just from a tablet, or my phone, how he got it all set up. Thank god I didn’t have to ask him to come back to explain it to me. I’ve got it down cold.”

“Okay.” Kaye takes another drink. “Now why don’t you tell me what you’re really worried about?”

Will looks at his own beer, then looks at Kaye. Same face, Will thinks, same eyes, still kind.

“Stefano’s got another parole hearing next week. Most likely he’s actually going to get it. I can always go in, speak up, and maybe delay it, but that’s all it is. Delaying the inevitable.”

“If it were me, I’d go, Will. You know Hope, Eric and Allie would too.”

“Believe me I know. Just like I know how the system works.”

After all, he’d  _ lived _ with the system.

“He served 10 years.” Will goes on. “Didn’t piss anyone off. The board’s going to let him off early for good behavior. They’re going to think he’s a changed man. He’s the exact person they want out of there, and the last thing I want is Allie anywhere near him. Or any of you.”

“What about you?”

Will thinks it over, has thought it over for several hours as he’d lied in bed, holding his baseball.

“It’s happening no matter what I do, so what’s the point? Sometimes all you can do is just put it behind you.”

“Is that why you resigned from the bigshot paper in Chicago, and moved back home?”

“A little.” Will admits. “I don’t have to completely forget. I definitely don’t have to forgive. But even I can feel it’s time to put it behind me, and look forward to the future.”

“Okay.”

“Parole’s not easy.” Will lifts his beer. “He’s never getting his CEO position back again. He has to report for drug tests. Can’t even leave the state. He might even be restricted to Springfield, force him to attend anger management. He’ll have to get some sort of job.” Will shrugs. “He’s moving back in with my mom. She has a house, in a quiet neighborhood, working her own fashion line.”

When Kaye looks surprised at this, Will just shrugs again. “I always felt better knowing exactly where they were. But I’m moving past it, but there’s something I want to tell you, something that’ll really help me move on. You were more of a parent to me than my mom ever was. You and Hope, but you’ve been there practically my whole life. You didn’t do anything but be yourself, but you helped me grow up.”

Kaye takes another moment to sip, before speaking. “That’s definitely something I love to hear. Especially from someone I couldn’t be prouder of.”

“What you did--”

“No, don’t do that.”

“I’m not just talking about that night, Kaye. Or what happened after it.”

And he really does need to say it. Like writing it down, just saying it makes it real.

“You weren’t just there when I had nothing. All the time I was at your house, or near you. You showed me how life was supposed to be. How a family, parents, even parents and grandparents are supposed to be. Without you, and all of that...It’s a cycle. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve wound up just like them.”

“Never.”

“I’m never going to know. But the thing is, you, Richard, and T, you kept me balanced. I’ll never wind up just like them, and that’s the best thing you could’ve done for me.”

“Then let me tell you something right back. You were never anything like either of them. It was so confusing to me, how different you and Allie were from her. I knew things weren’t right, but I never knew how bad it really was. I wish more than anything I did, but I didn’t. What I saw instead? Stefano was a pioused Italian asshole, and Sami, just a well polished statue.”

“That’s pretty damn good.” After another breath, Will sips his beer again. “That’s definitely good. Well polished statue is exactly what it is.”

“You and Allie? Not even close to anything like that, not like I can see me and Richard in T. Little things. Not once have I seen anything of Sami in either of you. What you two have? Heart. Neither one of them have it.”

Those kind eyes hold Will’s. “I’m not forgiving and forgetting either.”

“Looks like we’re both on the right path to looking to the future.”

Kaye smiles back at him. “Looks like it. What do you say to ordering some fatty bar food and another beer to celebrate?”

“Sounds like a plan.”


	33. Chapter 33

On an April shower morning, Will meets Doug at nine on the dot when Richard escorts him and Mia to his desk for their interview.

To them, they look like the perfect Stepford family. Doug looks athletically built next to Mia’s pregnant belly.

The second Doug has Mia settled, he stretches out a hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m also ridiculously happy things never worked out between you two.”

“Doug!” Mia cries out in affectionate protest.

“I don’t blame him.”

“Heard you saw the bar a few nights ago. Sorry I wasn’t there. Must’ve left right when you got there. Mia’s due any day, so I try to get home to put Jack to bed.”

“I like it. Especially the food.”

“Never fails. So how does this work?” Doug asks. “I think this is the first time we asked someone to write an article about this.”

“Why don’t we talk about what you want people to know?” As he speaks, Will opens up a new document on his computer, starting to take notes already.

“Basic stuff. Right?” Mia looks at Doug. “We have the name, the menu. It’s all carefully put together.”

“Good start. Let me just jot all of that down.”

He asks questions, very easy and straightforward, gets a sense of them and a good idea of their bar/restaurant, their vision. He gives answers as well as options, feel them both relax.

“Okay, now pretend this is the only decent restaurant in town. How would you convince people of that?”

“Say our kids were the inspiration behind everything.” The way Doug answered that, Will knows they’ve already talked about it. “But our son’s still very young, and this one hasn’t even born yet.”

“I can write how the specials are variations on all his favorite foods, you decide which ones.”

They exchange another look that tells Will they’re already on board with everything they’ve been saying.

But before Mia can say anything else, she winces, pressing a hand on the side of her belly. “Doug, I think this one’s ready to be born.”

“It’s just Braxton-Hicks.” Doug pats a well experienced hand on her arm. “Still got 10 days.”

“She says otherwise. She wants out now.”

“What?” Will pushes away from the computer. “Now, as in _right now_? I’m calling Richard.”

“No!” Mia waves him off. “They’re light, and it’s only the fourth. About 13 minutes apart. We still have time.”

Doug still gets up, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling him the midwife, tell her where we are. One second.”

“You have a midwife?” Will asks as Doug steps away.

“Straight from the Salem University Hospital.” Mia just smiles as she rubs her belly. “She’s awesome. I’m okay, Will. My mom’s already got Jack, and we’ll be there in less than 5 minutes. I’ve done it before. So what else do you need to know?”

“My head’s still spinning. You’re really calm about all this.”

She sends him a happy look. “About us possibly being the only place with decent food?”

“No, I mean...” he gestures. “Happy birthday.”

“Won’t be in a couple of hours, might as well have been now.” She looks over as Doug maes his way back in.

“She’s ready for us. I already called your mom. She’s gonna call everyone else, and they’re bringing Jack to the room when we say it’s okay.”

Doug sits next to her, reaching out a hand to rub her belly. “I told the restaurant staff I’m occupied, so they’re already handling it.”

Now Doug smiles at Will like his wife’s not about to give birth. “Now what?”

It takes another good half hour--followed by four more contractions that makes Will’s mouth go completely dry.

Richard hugs them both, wishing them the best of luck as Will shows them the door.

“I need to sit.” Will decides, dropping down into a chair. “My first actual girlfriend went into labor. At my desk.”

“Early labor, no less.”

“Labor,” Will repeats. “She’s literally walking to the hospital to have her baby. Walking.”

“Well, it’s not raining anymore, and walking’s good when you go into early labor. Know what else you can do? For her friend and journalist to buy her flowers on his break, and take them over there before going home.”

“I will do that. I just think it’s weird. She was the only girl I ever...” He stops himself when Richard narrows his eyes. “No, not like that. We never actually...no, I mean. You know what? Let’s just leave it at weird.”

He shows Richard his notes on his laptop. “They were pretty straightforward with what they wanted. Proofread my draft, send it back. Look over my notes too. If you can’t make sense of it, tell me.”

“Your notes are surprisingly legible for a journalist. You need two more articles to finish by today, but that’s still pretty good, Will, for only your first week.”

The phone on the desk rings, “And that might just be another story. Good morning.” he says into the phone. “Will Horton, Editor in Chief.”


	34. Chapter 34

Will does buy flowers, dropping them off at around 3 in the afternoon. The woman that greets him says she’ll take them in for him, or ask Mia if he wants to come in.

He tells her to take them herself. Please.

Since the rest of the day is wide open, he goes over to Eric’s with some paperwork he’d asked Sonny’s dad to handle.

He finds Uncle Eric standing right in front of the house, clutching his hands nervously as he watches Sonny dig a trench with his machine. Chad and Lani are currently planting some kind of tree on the other side of the front yard, now adorned with a path split in two that goes all the way to the front porch, where Ciara and Shawn work together to hang a porch swing the color of soft butter.

Will parks the car, and because Eric looks like he’s going to be ill, or pass out, Will goes to him.

Eyes crazy, he grabs Will’s shoulder. “What the hell did I agree to do?”

“I have no idea. What’s going on?”

“He’s digging a ditch. In the front yard. Something about sprinklers or a drip whatever, or--Jesus, It’s irrigation for the shrubs.”

“What, you mean like in Monty Python?”

“That’s it. It’s exactly like Monty Python. He told me it’ll bring color through the seasons, and texture annually, and balance everything out. Completely low maintenance, and that black thumbs in fact don’t exist.”

“If you changed your mind--”

“No, you’re not getting it.” Eric shakes Will lightly. “The second he opens his mouth, you’re just nodding along, thinking about how wonderful it sounds. Wish I’d thought of it. Then he actually does it, and you think, what the hell did I get myself into. Look at the color of that porch swing.”

“I saw that. Is it supposed to be a soft buttery color?”

“Oh man, it is. I picked that out myself--or wait, was it?” Still maintaining his grip on Will’s shoulder, Eric turns towards Sonny, narrowing his eyes. “Was it really me that picked it out? I’m almost positive he’s a master manipulator. I swear on my life.”

“Uncle Eric, breathe.” To help, Will hugs his uncle. “One thing I know for sure, the stonework is incredible.”

Eric looks at the walk, “It really is. He’s brilliant. I see it in every single riverside cabin he finishes, but--”

“Deep breaths. Know something else? I really like the swing too.”

Eric takes a breath. “Damn, me too. He’s always right. Distract me with something. How are you doing?”

“Pretty good. I’ve got my magazine’s first issue ready to go to print. Richard’s as close to godliness as you can get, and I might have a summer intern lined up. If I pick the one I want, we’ll outnumber her 2 to 1.”

Then he remembers, “Oh! Right. Mia just had her baby.”

“Now?”

“Uh huh. Went to labor in my office. It was so weird.”

Eric looks towards Will. “One of those days, huh?”

“You can say that again.”

Eric’s phone goes off, and after looking at the name, Eric pats Will’s shoulder. “Gotta head back to the office.”

“I should be really heading home too. Get some stuff finished. But I grabbed the paperwork from Justin like you asked.”

“Oh, thank you. Come have dinner with us tomorrow night, when I’m not so crazy.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Will starts walking up, saying a hi and bye to his cousins, when Sonny turns the machine off, and hops out. So Will walks towards him instead, looking at the trench.

“Shrubbery, huh?”

“When in doubt, always appease the Knights that Say Ni.”

Will can’t help but smile. “So I’ve been told.”

Sonny wipes a hand across his forehead.

What the hell color is his hair, anyway? Will wonders. Not exactly brown, or black. But more brown in the sun, for sure, and way darker in the shade.

“Just the guy I wanted to talk to.” Sonny tells him.

“Need a journalist?”

“Not at this exact moment, but I’m always open for new clients. Can I come by and look at your place?”

Now Will can feel Uncle Eric’s panic for himself. “You look plenty busy already.”

Shrugging, Sonny pulls on some work gloves. “Always gotta plan for the next project. I got a few ideas already, but I wanna take a better look, with your own opinion thrown in there. I can swing by in a few hours.”

Sonny walks back to his truck, calling for his crew to join him. Will’s got about a minute with his cousins before Sonny pulls them back in. He sees a crapload of plastic, and black hosing, and decides he should disappear before Sonny tosses him his own pair of work gloves and makes him work right alongside the rest.

As Will makes the drive home, he reminds himself he does actually want a few things put in the house’s exterior. He’s no pushover, either, so no trenches or shrubs for him.

A tree might be nice. A nice shady tree he can watch grow over the years. Maybe a hammock right under it for those lazy weekends. Or even a few trees with a hammock in between.

He can let Sonny put in a tree, Will decides, two even. Maybe a few bushes or shrubs here and there--what’s the difference, anyway? It’s not like it’s called a bushery.

Is it?

He’s gonna hold the line on shrubs and bushes.

And that, for better or worse, is that.


	35. Chapter 35

Sonny takes in the view on the drive up to Will’s house. Sonny knows exactly where the property line is, knows he’s gonna plant a cherry blossom tree, or lobelias, maybe some laurel. Scatter it up and down the drive so it looks like nature wanted them there.

Not only will visitors have that “wow” moment as they get closer, but they’d still see them from the house, and from several pounds.

Graceful, beautiful.

The house itself, in his opinion, is a kick-your-ass-five-ways-to-Sunday architectural marvel. Wood, stone, and glass perched just so, just overlooking everything. A deck, porch, even a pati just begging him to work his magic on. The huge main entrance--since they’re in Illinois, it’s more of a porch than a veranda--are screaming for sleek urns--maybe even concrete--with colors and extra height.

What the hell, he’ll even make friends with Will just so he can spend more time up here. But if he actually manages to convince Will to let him touch the place? He’ll give him his own Nirvana.

Sonny parks, looking up. He doesn’t even have a chair out of here on the deck--let’s just call it a terrace--off of the master bedroom.

Clearly, Will needs him.

Will steps out of the huge double doors on the shaded porch, and feels the click. The house suits him, in Sonny’s mind, and he suits it. That makes it so much easier.

He’s fairly tall, so all the high ceilings, the tall windows, the floor plan on the main floor just pulls it all together.

Sonny is so going to fix it to the grounds suit him too.

Legs that clearly don’t need to worry about covering ground, and a strong build that’s still bordering on lanky.

What gay guy doesn’t think, _hot_ , over a skinny, lanky, blue eyed man?

“Nice place you got here, Will.”

“Still not used to it.” Will walks up to Sonny, turning around, looking as Sonny does. “Every time I come up here, I always think, Would you look at that.”

“Same with mine. Do a little dance too. Good to be back, huh?”

“You made the change that much easier.”

Sonny turns, gesturing to the view of the mountains, river off in the distance, the square, all of it. “Why the hell not? I’m betting you stand in front of those huge windows, thinking, Would you look at that.”

“Every single day.”

“The view’s amazing. Know what’s missing?”

Will feels his shoulders going stiff. Hold that line, he thinks. “Why do I feel like you’re gonna tell me?”

“It needs a stone retaining wall. Right here.” Sonny walks closer to where the ground starts to shift. “Not just for erosion, structure too--and safety. In case you get married, with kids.”

“Wouldn’t that close things in?”

“It wouldn’t be that high, nothing to block the view, from up or down. Enhance it. Make it man made stone--I’ll leave the brochure. Pick the tones, and design. Add some lights.”

“Lights?”

“Not just for light. Magic too.” Sonny reaches into the pocket of his cargo pants, offering him a stip. “We’d use these--your choice on finish--on both sides. Got a few pictures to show how they look in the dark. Just a nice glow. I understand they wanted the house to be the main attraction, didn’t want anything else in the front to take away from it. But they didn’t have kids running around.”

“I don’t either.”

“Not yet you don’t. Plus, Allie has a little boy, and he’s definitely gonna run like the wind around here. Last thing you wanna do is have him slip and fall.”

Will never would’ve thought of that, but now he sees it clear as day. Then the line he’d been holding onto moves, right then and there. “Okay, let’s do a wall. A low one.”

“I’ll leave the brochure with you, take some measurements, give an estimate. So let’s just focus on the front for right now.”

Sonny talks about planting stuff along the driveway--more than Will would’ve thought of, which is nothing. About finishing off his porch with urns, chairs, a table, with stuff planted on the front.

And wouldn’t you know it, Will’s doing exactly what Uncle Eric warned him about. Nodding along. Still nodding when they move to the side, talking about using hydrangeas, peonies and lilies.

It’s the stream that breaks him out of it.

“You can’t be serious.”

“It wouldn’t be a whole new river. This house was built not too far away from the river. Just have to connect them underground. Come on, Will, the place is begging for it. Natural stone, water falling, meandering. Plants along the edge, sweeping them back. Put a bench here, some shrubs that smell nice, loose stone walkway, pretty light, mulch, and you can picture yourself sitting with a drink, listening to the water, taking in the view, and the smells every day.”

Sonny’s hands never stop moving as he speaks. Strong hands with long fingers, short nails. How the hell do they create something out of nothing.

“But...a stream?”

“More like a pond.” Sonny suggests. “Awesome use of this unused space. We can maintain the pump. You can enjoy it. Or else--it’s not my call, but still an idea. Do you golf at all?”

“Nope.”

“A journalist that doesn’t golf? I was thinking of some nice green golf, but nevermind. Not one for sports, I take it?”

“Used to play baseball.”

“What a coincidence, me too. I love it.”

It succeeds in taking Will’s mind off of streams. “Got a team?”

The look on Sonny’s face is full of pity. “Will, I was born and raised in Illinois. Once a Cubs fan, always a Cubs fan.”

And wouldn’t you know it, Will’s smiling back. “Me too.”

“Oh yeah?” Sonny segues from talking about landscaping, hooking his fascinating hands into the belt loops. “Did you ever make it to Wrigley?”

“A few times here and there.”

Sonny sighs. “I would’ve killed to live there.”

The confession is out before Will can stop it. “I would’ve killed to play there.” It still pulls at him, one he forces himself to not think on.

“What positon were you?”

“Right fielder.”

“Third baseman right here.” He offers his hand in a fist bump. “Salem’s got a league right here, but spring and summer are my best seasons, so it’s a no go. Do you play?”

“Nope.”

Something in that one word is so final, warning Sonny to not push further. “Well, I’m hoping to catch a few innings at Ciara’s softball game on Saturday. So I’ll draw what I have in mind, so you have a better idea. In the meantime.”

Sonny starts talking about raised beds for herbs and annuals, more shrubbery, another wall to match the front.

Will’s lost.

“Now that I’ve just dumped all this in your lap, I’m gonna go get the measurements. And I’ll grab some brochures for you to look at.”

“Awesome. Need some help?”

“I’m good.”

Sonny walks back to his truck, and Will, more than just a little baffled, goes back inside by way of the kitchen.

Will opens a beer, thinking maybe he should’ve offered one to Sonny. Then decides Will needs to recover from Sonny beforehand.

Sonny smells like dirt and plants, and has strong, capable hands that create the most beautiful images out of nothing. He has a way with words too, so he can get a hazy, idyllic image of what Sonny obviously sees in his own mind.

But none of that means Will’s actually buying it.

The walls, he can see that. Safety is important, and he really hopes Kyle will get to spend a lot of time visiting his uncle. And he really likes the idea of lights against the stone, it’s brilliant.

Maybe the plants--a few. But the stream? That’s just crazy.

Even as he thinks it, he walks over to the huge window of the big room, looks at the space Sonny was picturing the idiotic stream.

No. Nuh uh. Nope. But...maybe he’ll let it marinade for a while.

Sonny made a really good point about having tables and chairs and other stuff outside. The porch, decks, and back patio with its gorgeous sleek outdoor grill---you need seating out there to make it a real living space.

Okay, so Sonny actually did have a good point.

He knows how to grill--Hope had made sure of that--and he really wants to have the family out here for a barbeque. Tables and chairs everywhere.

Grabbing his beer and laptop, he sits at the large breakfast counter, starts to look at the Internet’s offerings for outdoor furniture.


	36. Chapter 36

Will leaves the glass wall open, and has a few choices saved in tabs when Sonny taps on it.

“Come in. Want a beer?”

“Absolutely, but I still have to drive. How about half of one?”

“Half of one it is.”

As Will gets up to pour half a beer, Sonny wanders inside, walking around the huge kitchen. He admires the cabinets, not too dark and rich, some with glass, so much granite that flows with silver, soft browns, and hints of green.

It’s got everything--wine cooler, ice machine. Dishwasher drawers, eight burner stove with double walled ovens.

Plus, as Sonny knows from snooping, there’s a pantry with another dishwasher, fridge, huge sink, more counters and cabinets. And a storage pantry you could almost live in.

“I almost want to learn to be a chef--a professional chef.”

“I am grateful I haven’t reached that part.” Will hands over the beer. “Which is why I don’t get the bed of herbs.”

“Herbs are self explanatory.” Sonny clinks his bottle with Will’s, sipping and sighing.

Then he hands over the brochures. “One’s mine, which is informal, for now. Some of the work shown might give you an idea of what I’m after. Still working on the website, but it’s definitely up.”

“If you need help, I got someone you can talk to.”

“Tad Stevens, right? He comes highly recommended.”

“My oldest friends, and I’d say that even if he wasn’t.” Out of curiosity, Will flips through a brochure open to a tag, sees the stone walls in tones that make him think of his own kitchen counters, sees the shots taken at night with those lights on.

“Okay. I’m impressed.”

“Told you. That would work.”

“It’s--how do you say--terraced. A couple of levels, stone steps.”

“That would work too, without the steps. Don’t need them. But not only can we do the terraced wall, but I’m actually advising it.”

“You didn’t say.”

Sonny smiles as he sips his beer. “Didn’t want to put you out.”

Will looks over at Sonny, deep blue eyes cynical. “You mention streams, and you don’t want to put me out?”

“You were already considering it by then. I’d say two levels for aesthetics and stability. ”

“But planting this on the first level, and that--”

“Native plants with an irrigation system under them. With a lot of mulch. We maintain it, everyone comes together.”

“Put that on your logo. You should sit down. I can look through it while you’re still here.”

“Awesome.” Sonny pulls over a chair, then hands out some prints he’d put together. “Have a look see.”

When Sonny opens it to a fucking stream, Will gets a sinking feeling.

“You built it.”

“With my own two hands.”

“It’s incredible.”

“I think so too. It’s a little more extravagant than what I wanna do here, but there’s still an idea of what you can do. Work with what we have, use ground.”

Will critically studies the photos. This one has plants growing all around it, the trenches big enough for someone to put their feet in.

“You’re really pulling the big guns on the sales pitch.”

Sonny sips his beer. “You already do. I’m just getting you past your aversion to plants.”

“And in winter?”

“Drain it, take the pump out. Then it’s pretty until spring, when you put it back in.”

“Damn.”

Sonny doesn’t bother hiding the laugh. “I’ll draw what I’m picturing, give you a quote. Then you can decide.”

Sonny takes a look, making note of the page pulled up on the computer. “Just looking at your ideas for the outdoors.”

“You were definitely right about that. I want family here, but I haven’t figured out stuff for outside.”

“Don’t be too contemporary or rustic. You--Sorry, I can’t help it. Is is okay if I just...” Sonny twirls a finger. “Take a look at how you’re dressing the house up?”

“Go ahead.”

“I like what you’re doing here. Big space, ceilings, so oversized furniture, it all works. Mostly masculine coloring,” Sonny adds as he keeps walking. “But they’re not boring. Comfy, but not messy, nothing suffocating in style. I hate matching stuff. Love the table in the dining room.”

“Just grabbed that. They said it was rustic.”

“Regardless, it’s awesome.” Sonny drags one finger on the top. “You’re pretty organized.”

Getting beat up regularly if you don't tends to do that, Will thinks. “Guess so.”

Sonny walks into the living room, looking through the doors into a room that’s clearly almost finished being made into Will’s home office. “What about the lower level? Is the home theater staying?”

“I’d have to be an idiot not to. I still need some stuff for the guest room down here. Right now all I’ve got set up is the home gym.”

Sonny walks back toward Will with his lips pursed, squeezing Will’s arms. “That’s what I thought. Nice.”

Then Sonny starts wandering again, leaving Will confused.

“Alright, you obviously know what you’re doing here, what works for you and in this house. But what I can do is give you a list of places where you can look at, feel for yourself, and even test, and other stuff on actual things instead of ordering it online.”

“Sounds good.”

“You know what, just give me your email. Once I get a workup going, I’ll send it over.”

“Wouldn’t you know it, I happen to have a business card.”

Will pulls his wallet out of his pocket, hands Sonny his card.

“Very impressive. Will Horton, Journalist. Good name for a journalist. Even better for a comic book hero’s secret identity. Mines in the brochure, if you need to call me for anything.” Sonny hands the glass back. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Half of one.”

“Still just as good.”

“I’ll walk you out. Wait, I have one of T’s cards too.” He opens a drawer, ridiculously organized, taking out a card. “You want the T, call T.”

“I actually need to. Thanks.”

“He thinks you’re hot for a guy.”

“He said--huh.”

“And I officially have a foot in my mouth. He’s in a serious relationship, not to mention straight, and crazy about Gabi.”

“Good for him.” Sonny says as they walk to the front. “And he’s right, I am hot for a guy.”

“He’d never hit on you.”

“That’s god to know. Jesus I love it here.” Sonny steps out on the porch, breathing in the fresh air, along with the view. “When I’m done with it, it’s gonna look like it’s fresh out of an enchanted forest.”

“Complete with a fairy fountain?”

Sonny laughs. “If you know what’s good for you, yeah. I’ll be in touch with you later.”

Will watches Sonny walk down the stairs, back to his truck. Yeah, definitely hot for a guy, he decides, in a way he can’t quite get a grip on.

“Wait!” he suddenly calls out. “Maybe I’ll see you at Ciara’s softball game.”

“Hope so.” Sonny jumps in his truck, gives a wave goodbye, and drives away.

And Will suddenly realizes as Sonny does that there was a weird energy humming around them that’s now fading.

And he really wishes it wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please PLEASE don't try using any of the contact information.
> 
> All of it is made up for the sake of the story, and should not be taken seriously.


	37. Chapter 37

If Will were to guess, his email relationship with Sonny starts when Will sends Sonny one first with an email with his pick for the wall. And mentioning he wants the balcony, and the lights too.

Within a few hours, Sonny sends a reply back, his approval, and a very detailed pricing of labor and materials that have an estimate on time, as well as a guess for the start date, provided the weather holds.

Finding out the cost was well below his fears doesn’t stop Will from wincing. He wanders onto the bedroom balcony, looks at the grounds, still lit up by floodlights. Pictures the pretty glow against the stones.

Walks back inside to email Sonny asking for a contract.

To which Sonny emails back exactly that within the hour. And dammit, Will promptly prints it, signs it, scans it, and sends it right back. And gets Sonny’s reply just as promptly.

All of which before midnight on the exact day Sonny showed up to convince him of everything.

The next night, after dinner with his family, Will checks his email again, finding yet another one from Sonny.

This one has a drawing with the stream in it, complete with measurements. He looks it over, covets it, then promptly walks away.

When he’s back home, he walks back outside, looks at the open space, can practically hear the water moving through the earth. Walks back inside, to his home office.

 _Do it_ , Will writes. _Your whole thing is really starting to piss me off._

Sonny’s reply comes only a few seconds later.

S: _I get that all the time. Do you want a separate contract for it, or do you want me to calculate all of it?_

W: _Figure it all out. I’m not saying yes to everything, but run the numbers anyway. I’ll just cherry pick it. And I’ve also decided you are definitely not as hot as you think._

S: _I’ll have the numbers by Ciara’s game. Whatever you decide, if I run into you, I’ll even buy you lunch. And my degree of hotness, unbridled, is nuclear. Gotta talk to my dad about setting up an LLC._

W: _I can bring it over the day of the game. But it’ll cost you a bundle. And lunch._

S: _Cool, let’s negotiate that. I’ll call you and set up an interview._

Will finds the rest of his week ridiculously busy. He even has to hire an intern, a really smart grad student that’s interested in the field. She was raised by her aunt and uncle--unknown parents, most likely long gone. Since her aunt and uncle left town a few years ago, she wanted a position to keep him in town.

Can’t get closer than Horton Town Square, and as he hits every goal Will sets, Will and Zoe Browning manage to come to terms.

Which means Will has to come up with another desk, and everything with it.

He draws up a scorned woman’s interview, talks a former high school teacher out of slandering his family over what can only be described as petty reasoning. He takes an interview for someone who wants to memorialize her mother’s life, who’s recently passed.

He can’t claim his calendar is overflowing by any means, but for a guy starting a news magazine in a town like Salem Illinois, he thinks he’s doing just fine.

He comes back from what he can only describe as a house call flustered, exhausted, and drenched in the day’s thunderstorm, dropping into a chair in the reception area.

Richard turns around to study him. “You have that ‘I’ve been talking to Muriel Boskins’ look in your eyes. Eyes glazed over, hair in a mess, and all the neurons in your head fried, mouth hanging open in shock.”

“Coffee?”

“Got anything stronger in it?”

“Nope. You got another interview in half an hour. No booze.”

“She--jesus. I thought she was terrifying as a kid. Now she’s old and scary. I had to sit in her living room in this tiny chair--two whole hours with my knees up. I had to drink tea that tasted seriously weak.”

Richard rolls his eyes in mock pity. “You poor thing.”

“Everything stunk like lavender and cats. She has six--and those are only the ones I saw. One of them was in a stare down with me the whole time. I couldn’t even blink, so now I’m wondering if it was stuffed. Then I saw it move.”

Will shudders. “I actually have to go back there, Richard. I seriously have to go back.”

Enjoying this, Richard leans forward. “One of her cats gave birth again, huh?”

“She dragged out all the pictures of all the ones who gave birth before, with all the cute captions.”

Richard stands up. “I’m getting you a soda. Just breathe.”

He comes back with an ice cold bottle. “I’m friends with one of her grandsons. She hits up the local papers and magazines every few months or so when one pops a litter. Whoever is in good favor with her has to help her home the kittens, as well as setting up the interview. Then that person is on the outs, so she has to find someone else, tell them everything, and then they set up an interview all over again.”

“She has six kids.” Will adds, “20 something grandkids, 54 great grandkids, and even 20 great _great_ grandkids. With more on the way.” Will takes a huge gulp. “And when not talking about her cats, she’s talking about them too--aside from the ones that are dead to her, and those get a whole tirade to themselves. It’s like, he didn’t handle the kittens right, she suggested selling them to pet stores, and this one wouldn’t even show up. For two hours!”

“Easy, easy.”

“Hilarious. Remind me to say that after you spend the whole day turning all the notes into a genuine article.”

“I will take that challenge.” he says when Will pulls out his laptop, pulls up a new document, types it all up. “Trust me, it gets easier the next go around. Give it a few months. Plus, how old is she? She won’t be bugging you for much longer.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Will stands, closing the document file right as his phone goes off. He pulls it out right as he walks into his office.

Sonny.

_Tell me you’re sitting down. If not, text me the minute you are. And you’re gonna want booze for this._

Will walks to his desk with his laptop, wondering why he feels simultaneously anxious and excited whenever he hears from Sonny Kiriakis.

W: _Okay, now I’m sitting. And because I’m a professional and it’s still early afternoon--and Richard won’t let me--I do not have any booze._

S: _You’re gonna want to make him change his mind in a few seconds. I’m now sending an email with several attachments. I’m gonna be there for a few innings of the softball game, then I gotta work to make up for wasting this afternoon because of the rain. See you there._

Will hears his laptop go off, looking at it. How bad is it? And it’s not like he’s going to do everything Sonny wants anyway.

Cherry pick, Horton, he thinks, laughing at the goofy meme.

Then he downloads and opens the attachments.

The first one, showing how smart and prudent his enemy really is, with drawings and illustrations with the projections, completely finished.

“Seeing it doesn’t change anything.” he mutters. “Christ, it’s incredible. But seeing it doesn’t change anything.”

He moves onto Sonny’s careful list of trees shrubs, plants, all with price tags--complete with a guarantee of free replacement for a whole year should they die on him

Okay, that’s more than fair.

Then there’s several different names for dirt, as well as mulch, water systems, pots, urns and planters.

Most of which leaves him scratching his head. Dirt is dirt--isn’t the saying dirt cheap?

Then there’s the labor cost, and when he finally manages to uncross his eyes, he sees the grand total.

“Motherfu--”

Richard runs in. “What’s wrong? There might be another interview!”

All Will does is point at his computer.

Still glaring, Richard looks at the laptop screen. “Oh Jesus Christ.”

“Told you.”

“All that just for some landscaping? You landscaping the White House, or what? Eric already told me how reasonable Sonny is, and I’ve even been thinking about calling him to ask to do some work on me. But Jesus.”

“Don’t let this dissuade you. It’s crazy. And for whatever reason, he put in the walls and stream I already had a contract for.”

“Stream? You want a stream?”

“No. Kinda. No. It’s insane. I am insane.”

Will pulls the file up, showing it to Richard. And Richard promptly makes a wistfully yearning sound.

“It’s amazing. And the plants? I swear it looks like it’s supposed to be there. Like it’s always been there. Will, it’s incredible. What else is there?”

More reluctantly, Will scrolls down to look at other drawings.

“It’s awesome. Beyond awesome. It’s magic, but more like magic by nature.”

“Not helping at all.” Will mutters.

“Sue me. I can’t help what I see. Bring back the page with the price tag on it.”

Once Will does, Richard pats his shoulder. “That’s awesome too. Wait, there’s another one.”

“Nuh uh.” But Will makes a note of it. “Guess I was too busy having an aneurysm to see it.”

“Fine, fine.” Richard reassures him. “Look where he makes note of the other contract and costs--because he’s giving you what he refers to as a Favorite Client discount on the work, including all of that. It’s a really nice discount, Will. Not saying it’s not a lot, but still really good.”

Will stares at the figures again. “He’s being a little tight-lipped--just ask Eric. He’s tight-lipped. He waited to put in the discount until after my heart attack or aneurysm. He actually waited, and never mentioned anything about a discount when I bought into the wall and stream, but he put that in there. He was planning that all along. He’s reeling me in. That’s what he does.”

Richard scrolls back up, making the noise once again. “If he can pull all this off, he doesn’t just reel. The man’s a prodigy. Picasso of landscaping. So what are you gonna do?”

“I’m not gonna keep looking at the pictures, drawings, and keep that figure firmly in my brain so I never forget why I’m not looking at them.”

Will hears the quiet chime, something else T installed so Will would know when the front door opens. “And now I’m forgetting about it.” He closes the email.

“I’ll give you some recovery time, then bring your next interview in.”

Richard walks back to the door, looking back, “You can’t deny how special it really would be.”

“I’ll take sanity over special any day.”


	38. Chapter 38

Friday was a mess in the rain, but Saturday was gorgeous. And Sonny gets up right next to it.

Sonny drinks his coffee and a bowl of cheerios with some cut up bananas while he checks the forecasts, both short and long range.

He dresses in his spring attire of some cargo pants, t-shirt, and light blue hoodie, pleased to have the Common Ground Landscaping logo adorned on the chest, a cartoon hot air balloon. He thinks it speaks to his more adventurous side.

As he walks to his truck, he looks at the excavated ground for his equipment and tool sheds. With any luck, he’ll have the concrete filled in and inspected by first thing next week.

He wakes up early enough to hear the birds singing, sees flowers blooming with color through the trees. The wind chime he’d bought for himself catches on the early morning breeze, giving more music and color to the perfect morning.

And really, what could possibly be better?

Optimism never wavering, he drives down the length of the river, mist spread out with the early morning.

Ever the early bird, from both how he was raised and his chosen career, he discovers getting to see the sunrise is yet another perk to his job.

Alone on the road by the river, he goes over today’s schedule in his head. He’s positive it can all be finished in time, even with some extra time left at night so he can deal with his kitchen.

Those doors are coming off, he thinks. The fronts in Will’s house have inspired him. He’s getting rid of those ugly things that dare call themselves doors, paint the rest of them, and then he’s done.

Much easier to picture what he wants that way.

He lets himself think about Will, if only for a moment. He never replied to Sonny’s email, or all the attachments. Out of character for him, Sonny admits. He should’ve gotten back to Sonny already.

Probably still recovering, and Sonny’s not about to hold that against him. Not to mention, Sonny would never expect Will to go for the whole thing. If anything, Sonny’s hoping Will’s gonna prioritize so Sonny can give Will what he actually wants.

He pulls up at reception, grabs his gloves, pulls them on, then grabs his tools.

He gets a whole hour’s work done when Lani shows up, then Chad--slightly hungover from a night out. He’d allowed them an hour in the morning, since he was going to do the same thing to watch some softball.

Once Eric pulls up, they’re potting plants and adding mulch. Eric walks over to where Sonny’s winding celastrus around the hooks he’d put on the new lamppost.

“It’s starting to grow on me.” Eric sighs. “Used to spending a lot of time thinking, yeah, that works, then segueing into the mini freak out of ‘oh my God what is he doing’, and ending with, ‘it’s perfect.’”

“It’s what we do.”

“It really is, even if I’m still stuck on stage two when it comes to my place.”

“That’s where we’re going when we finish up. You’ll get to stage three next week.”

And yet, when Eric looks, Sonny can see the worry in his face. “I don’t know how I’m gonna worry about the upkeep.”

“All low maintenance.” Sonny reminds him. “And I’ll show you.”

“Remind me what tree Chad is mulching over there.”

“Eastern redbud. Perfect bloomer. One’s going by your house too.”

“Good luck with that. I need to put in a few hours before my intern takes over so I can catch Ciara’s game.”

Sitting on his heels, Sonny scans the celastrus, before deciding it’s good. “I’m going to make sure I’m over there for a full hour.”

“I’ll have a seat saved. Listen, Sonny, while I appreciate how hardworking you are, I know how much pressure running your own business can be. You need a day off.”

“I spent most of the day before off. And it’s supposed to rain again next week, so that’ll be another one.”

Eric crouches. “What do you do with your days off, anyway?”

“Come up with new ways to freak my clients out.”

Eric pats Sonny’s shoulder with genuine affection, “I’ll say. See you there.”

Sonny finishes in plenty of time to take pictures for his files, get his crew started at Eric’s, and hose himself down with a hose.

“Back before you know it. Or later if you want me to grab food. On me.”

“Mexican food!” Chad calls.

Lani, now with her hair tied back, leans against a shovel. “Gordita with salsa, guac, and sour cream.”

“Got it.”

“Chips too.” Chad adds. “Gotta have tortilla chips.”

Sonny’s a fan of Mexican food himself, but Chad really goes for it. “2 at the latest. Text me if there’s a problem.”

Sonny winds past the river, admiring all the late flowers, cheering silently for all the gardeners working on their gardeners, and keeps driving through town, already busy with both locals and tourists.

And all the way past it to the fields.

He has to really look for a parking spot, and as he parks a full block away, making his way there, he hears the sound of bats hitting balls, fans cheering, smells the food.

He stops to watch all the little girls playing, little ones learning how to play the game, as well as sportsmanship. In the sun, Sonny walks to where the older kids are having a go at it, finds Will. Eric and Hope up in the highest part of the bleachers.

Only three innings missed, Sonny notes, seeing the scoreboard. Home team even has a run.

Bottom of the third, one out, bases loaded.

Ciara plays the batter deep at third.

Sonny doesn’t move until the batter--with one hell of a swing--strikes out.

As he makes his way up, several people greet him, which is nice. Nice to be somewhere people actually know you by name, and actually bother to say hi.

Will gives Sonny a long look from under his ballcap, behind his sunglasses, as Sonny sits next to him.

“How’s she doing?”

“Has an RBI, solid single. Hot line drive and even beat the runner, and snagged a pop-up.”

“Awesome. What do you want on your hot dog?”

“Relish.”

“That all?”

“Yep.”

“Gotcha. Hey.” Sonny leans in front of Will so he can talk to Eric and Hope. “I’m buying hot dogs at the end of the inning. You two want any?”

“Thanks. Just relish.”

Hope leans in front of her husband. “Completely loaded.”

“Now that’s how you do a Chicago dog right.”

Sonny watches as the first batter flies out on the third pitch.

“So where’s Shawn?”

“Somewhere with his not-my-girlfriend-girlfriend.”

“Belle? She’s cute. Probably trying to work up the nerve to ask her to the end of school dance. He didn’t want to make a big deal about it, so why not a softball game.”

That gets Will to look away from the next hitter. “How do you know?”

“He said something to me. He knows she wants him to ask her, and probably knows that too, but he doesn’t want to make it into a spectacle. Ciara’s up.”

“Yep.”

They watch the first pitch, calling it a ball. Muttering: “High and inside.”

Sonny elbows Will in the ribs, “So have you managed to recover from your stroke, prioritized?”

“Might have.”

The second pitch ties it up 1-1.

“You can get back at me next week.”

“Why next week?”

“Rain sometime right in the middle of it, so I called you late Friday afternoon, to make an appointment. Alright!” Sonny claps as the battle takes another outside pitch. “Good eye!”

“Eric says you’re almost done.”

“I am, and it looks amazing. Back at the actual house the rest of the day. I’m going to Cabin six for a few hours tomorrow sometime between checking out, and someone checking in.”

Late swing, foul.

Sonny turns his head so their eyes meet, covered by sunglasses, shadowed by baseball caps.

“This how you spend your weekend?”

“Can’t dig holes in inclement weather, Horton.”

Ball three. Full.

People clapping and stomping.

A little kid sits on his mom’s shoulders on the grass next to the bleachers, waving a souvenir plastic bat.

A couple rows below Sonny, a man shouts, “Knock it out!”

“It’s coming in,” Will mutters.

“Think so?”

“Watch. They’re gonna crowd, make him swing early.”

Sonny watches. It does come in, missing the corner. Instead of knocking it out, the player’s smart, taking the pitch, hitting the base.

“Good eye.” Sonny notes. “Quick feet. Stretched a double into a triple.”

Once again, Will just stares. “How would you know?”

“I catch innings whenever I can. Maybe practice a little. Alright, Ciara!”

Ciara steps to the plate, shuffling, testing the bat, then stands.

She’s got good form, Will thinks. Good focus, finely tuned instincts. He remembers how it used to be, on that same mound on sunny afternoons, smelling hot dogs cooking, freshly cut grass, dirt and chalk.

How he was able to block out the noise or use it, at will.

How, in that exact moment, the smells, sounds, feeling the bat in his hands, seeing the ball come flying towards him was the only thing in existence.


	39. Chapter 39

Ciara wastes no time, hitting out the first pitch past the second baseman, who dives for it.

Just like Sonny predicted, that single puts runners on 1st and 3rd. He cheers loudly, whistling and high fiving Will.

“Bring it in!”

“What, do you know everyone?” Will wonders. 

“If you’re gonna live in a town like Salem and start a business, you have to be a Salemite. Plus, come on. Baseball.”

The count moves up to 2-2 before a one hopper pops to left center.

It succeeds in bringing in the run, letting Ciara run to second base.

While the coach calls a time out, walking to the mound with the catcher to settle down the pitcher, Sonny turns to Will.

“So, depending on your schedule, we can scratch my interview Wednesday if you want to hash out more details. Or if you want to see my place tomorrow, or I can come to your place. Regardless, either 11 in the morning, or 3PM.”

Sonny waits a second, then, “Unless I’ve officially talked you out of it.”

“You didn’t talk me out of anything.”

“Good. Then just tell me the best time that works for you.”

Eric leans in, “Talking about Will’s place, huh? He showed me your drawings. I swear, it’s like a movie set.”

“But one you can actually live in.” Sonny adds, smiling.

The conference mounds works. The pitcher works the batter up to a 1-2 count before crowding in to a very easily fielded pop-up.

The next one loops right to second, can’t outrun it as it’s thrown to first, successfully ending the inning.

“Two up.” Sonny claps. “Time for hot dogs.”

“Will, go help him.”

Sonny waves off Eric’s concern. “I’m fine. Eye for an eye.”

Sonny makes his way down the bleachers, then over to the stand to get in line. The man in front of him turns around.

“Hey, Sonny.”

“Danny.” Who works at the Flower Palace, and really knows his way around plants.

“How’re you doing?”

“Pretty good. Got a my niece-in-law’s playing, and we’re actually winning. Saw you up in the bleachers.” He gives Sonny a knowing look. “I didn’t realize you’re with Will Horton.”

“Of course I---oh no, not like that. I just wanted to watch Ciara play for a while. I just happen to be sitting with them.”

“Well that’s too bad, because I think you two are really cute together.” Danny looks back at the stands as he says, “Good to see him out here, actually watching a game.”

They move up the line, pausing when the crowd cheers at a long fly ball, grabbed by the center fielder, resulting in an out.

“I was a few years ahead of him when we were in school.” Danny goes on, “But I have a brother that was in the same class as him. He was the MVP on the team, won State Player two years in a row.”

“That’s pretty big.” Sonny notes.

“Absolutely. He probably could’ve gone for three if it wasn’t for...”

Danny seems to catch himself, shuffling slightly. “Sustained an injury that benched him.”

“For the rest of the season?”

“Permanently, from what I was told. Broken arm, or something just as bad. Anyway, it’s really good to see him back in Salem, at the baseball field.”

Danny places his order, giving Sonny a moment to think it over.

Broken nose, grandfather, he thinks. Broken arm? Same person? Possibly. Would potentially explain why no one ever talks about his grandfather, or even his mom, now that he thinks about it.

And why he and Allie live with Eric and Hope.

Danny gathers up his tray with his order, “Be sure to stop by the Flower Palace, alright?”

“Of course I will.”

Sonny places his own order, with all the specifications he was given. And thinks about a teenage boy, star of the baseball team, MVP, one who dreamed of playing at Wrigley Field.

He can almost feel his heart physically break.

He has to force himself to push it away as he carries the food back to the bleachers. If Will wants to tell him, he will.

Sonny passes the hot dogs around, complete with napkins. “Consider this a down payment.” he tells Will. “Still gotta negotiate your million dollar fee.”

“So I never mentioned that’s my hourly fee?”

“No you didn’t. I’m betting my LLC’s coming gold plated.”

“Only the best.”

Sonny eats his hot dog, staying all the way to the 4th inning.

“Gotta skedaddle. Eric, please take a look at reception. Nice seeing you, boss. Will.”

Once again Sonny climbs down the bleachers, starting towards the road.

“Wait!”

And turns right around when Will follows him.

“Where did you park?”

Sonny points, tapping midair a few times to indicate how far away.

“I’ll come with. Need to stretch my legs.”

“Considering how many you have, that’s probably a good idea.”

The little ones had finally wrapped up, and the older kids are ready to take over. Will pauses for only a second, watching the center fielder underestimate a fly ball by about a mile.

“The coach would take us all out for pizza, regardless of we actually won, after a game on Saturday.”

“Sounds like a good coach.”

“The best. So I’ve given your ridiculously lavish plans for what would be appropriately called my estate serious thought.”

“You should. But I think you need more acres, a guest house, and a pool before it’s a legitimate estate. And maybe a tennis court.”

“I’m getting a goddamn stream.” Wil reminds Sonny. “I've been thinking about it, right after my receptionist managed to revive me from my stroke brought on by shock, and maybe some awe.”

Sonny shifts, hooking his thumbs on his belt loops. “I thought maybe I'd just give you it in small pieces, but I didn’t want to cheat. Start by telling me what’s a, ‘Hell no’, so I can adjust the plans and costs.”

“Not one thing.”

That stops Sonny cold. “You want nothing? It’s your house, Will, but I am obligated to tell you, at the minimum, you need foundation plants, a few trees. With all of that, I could do it myself and give you a serious break on the labor cost.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, though if I’m being honest, that was my first thought too. Hell no, forget I even asked, this guy’s out of his mind. Then I messed up.”

“How?” Sonny’s not too sure where Will’s going with this, even though he can already feel the electricity under his skin.

“Well, first off, I showed the plans to friends and family. Which was a mistake on so many levels. Then I went over to look at the riverside cabins you’ve already finished. I even met with a few of the guests outside one of them, who come here every year just for spring. Uncle Eric has a lot of repeat tenants.”

“And because I was a guest once, I know why. Amazing accommodations, a to die for view, above and beyond personal customer service.”

“That’s what they told me. Then they went and said with all the stuff you did on the outside, they love sitting on the front porch to look at the yard as much as the river. Or drinking on the back patio after swimming in the river. How beautiful everything looks, how it felt, and I quote, ‘their own personal Nirvana’.”

“That’s pretty nice.”

“And still, I went home and thought to myself, No, no, no, possibly, maybe, and I’ll definitely think that one over. Then I show up at today’s game, after more thinking, with the thoughts of, no, nu uh, maybe, probably, fine. And finally...”

Will stops right next to Sonny’s truck, looking around. He can see the mountains, under the pure blue sky, houses, grass, painted porches, flowers. He can still hear the game--thank you sound for carrying.

He’s acutely aware of the ground under his feet, the air in his lungs.

“Then as I’m watching the game, sitting there with Uncle Eric and Hope, saying hi to everyone I know, everyone that knows me now, everyone that knew me back then. And I thought, this is it. This is me. That’s my house, my home, and these are the people I belong with. They’re the whole reason I came back. That’s why I’m not going anywhere. That’s why I say, throw caution to the wind. This is mine. I want everything.”

“...Everything.”

“Everything.” Will agrees when Sonny gestures around him. “And all of your ridiculously over the top ideas.”

Sonny holds up a hand, turning around, taking a few steps back. “This is...not what I was expecting. At all.”

“Are you saying it’s impossible?”

“Of course it’s possible.” Sonny whips back. “I never offer anything I can’t do. But I wasn’t expecting you to...I wasn’t expecting. Well, I’ll be damned.” Sonny comes back, slaps him on the arm. “I’ll be damned for all eternity in Hell. This is going to be awesome. You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“I’d better not. I just said to go ahead with everything you want.”

Sonny shakes his head, “You know you wanted it just as much as me. You never would’ve said yes if you didn’t.”

“But I did say yes, and all you do is punch me on the arm and the assurance I won’t regret it?”

“You’re right. You’re so unbelievably right. You deserve better than that. I can do so much better.”

Sonny grabs Will, wrapping his arms around him--completely unexpected--and does in fact do so much better when he leans in to kiss Will, with another punch behind it.

Enough to knock Will back on his heels, to have him grabbing him back just as tightly before he can think better of it.

Then Sonny pulls back, grinning as he notes, “You’re not pushing me away.”

Will shakes his head, smiling.

Then Sonny gets back on track, “Now I really do have to get back to work--and to buy food for my workers on the way. But I’ll be sure to call you.”

Will holds on for just another second, “You’re very attractive.”

Sonny laughs, then leans in to kiss him again, friendlier this time. “Told you so."

Sonny skedaddles to his truck, hops into the driver’s seat, then leans out the window. “Still not paying the million an hour rate.”

With that, Sonny turns his truck on, and pulls out. He circles towards the Town Square, then once he’s completely out of sight, pulls our.

“Oh my God.” Taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly, he rubs a hand over his pounding heart. “Oh my fucking God.”

Because of course getting the job--the entire job--wasn’t exciting enough, he just had to go and hit himself over the head with a stolen kiss.

Anyone thinking rationally would need a minute to compose themselves.

Keep it easy, Sonny tells himself, try to keep it easy. Who better than him knows the repercussions of acting on impulse.

“Okay, it’s all good.” He takes one last deep breath, then pulls out his phone, the number for his stone guy. Asking for his rep.

“Hi, Sonny Kiriakis, Common Ground Landscaping. Put the order through. Let’s go over it, make sure it’s right.”

Once he’s parked at Eric’s, his first deliveries have been confirmed. He hauls out the bags of food, stands studying the now finished shrubs.

Perfection.

The foundation plants, perfect as well. And with the new stones, fresh coat of paint, the celastrus, climbing up the newly installed lamppost, the house has some serious curb appeal.

He has some stellar planters in mind for that insane wraparound porch. And since Eric can actually cook, there’s also a few tomato plants, and several herbs.

He walks around the back to where Ciara and Lani are testing another part of the irrigation.

He beams brightly at them both.

“We need a bigger crew.”


	40. Chapter 40

The very next week, Stefano DiMera walks out of prison after a decade. His hair, cut short, is gray with hints of white in his beard. Deep lines cut into his face, especially around the mouth, eyes, cheeks and forehead. He wears a snappy suit over his body, slightly thicker than it used to be, but one he’d made a point to keep in shape in the gym.

Sami’s waiting for him outside the prison gate. She wears a stylish outfit in zebra and red. Her hair, newly styled, sweeps around a face she’d been working on a full hour.

Shaking, she walks closer to him, then hugs him, feels him hug her briefly. She fights her tears as she lifts her head, and for the first time in a full decade, feels him kiss her cheek.

They turn to the car, the one Stefano had deemed worthy of her to purchase. Though he’d made fists for a moment--he can’t even drive--he opens the driver’s door for her, and walks around to sit in the passenger seat.

He keeps his eyes hard as he stares at the gate, the walls, the guards, all of which had kept him locked up and humiliated. Still shaking, Sami drives away.

“Oh, Stefano.”

“Keep driving, Samantha. I have to get away from here.”

“It’s all ready for you. New clothes, all your favorite foods. Sold the house like you told me to, rented the one you wanted in another neighborhood. The lawyer told me we have to stay in Illinois, but we can apply to move from Crest Hill. I’m thinking Chicago. We can start completely over there.”

The cars pass by too quickly. So many of them, so much noise, wide open, overwhelming sky.

“Relax.” She grabs his hand. “You can relax now, Stefano. You’re free. We’re free, and we’ll be home soon.”

Finally, she pulls into the driveway of a two story house--so much smaller than the mansion he’d left behind so long ago. But the neighborhood with the messy sidewalks means plenty of room between houses, trees and fences, which means forced separation between neighbors.

She drives into the garage. And he can feel the relief as the door closes.

Back inside, away from the open, noise and nosy neighbors. Inside a house with no bars, no locked doors.

He showers first, while Sami heats up a meal made by a caterer she’d hired to make it so it would be perfect, and sets the table herself, poring champagne.

They eat and drink together, go to bed in separate rooms.

They wake up at the same time, drink coffee together.

Start a new life together.

It takes all of 2 days before he hits her again.


	41. Chapter 41

As they get closer to summer, Sonny hires Ben Weston as a part time laborer. The young man comes with experience in spades as a stonemason and has a license to operate heavy machinery. What he knows about plants and trees doesn’t amount to much, but Sonny really wants someone with experience in hardscaping to help with the work on Will’s place.

And as far as Sonny’s concerned, anyone can be taught how to plant, from trees to a delicate flower.

Ben doesn’t talk much other than when spoken to, drinks soda like it’s actually healthy, and has a very special touch with the mini excavator, one of Sonny’s more recent investments.

He’s also taken a shine to Ciara, and manages to teach her the art of building a retaining wall.

Will watches the lower part of the terrace start to come together, moving from a steep slope to a wider ledge formed by the excavator.

He’d long lost count of how many times he’d made the mistake of standing on his bedroom patio, drinking his coffee, and had serious worries about the machine falling.

But once again, Sonny clearly knows what he’s doing, and so does the new guy. Crisis averted.

He waves hello to them every morning as he goes to his office. Most of the time they’re already done for the day before he comes back. But he can still see them progressing--right now, that just means big holes.

One day he drives up, and what should he find but trees lining the road, and footers or whatever they’re called for the front facing wall.

As the wall becomes more apparent, with actual stone, Will finds himself slowing down, even stopping altogether. Every single time, he catches himself asking why they weren’t there in the first place.

He thinks about Sonny and his little landscaping crew that work themselves to the bone when no one’s looking, then disappear like ninjas.

So Will’s thrown for a loop when he finds Sonny still there when Will pulls into the driveway. A close second being when he sees the spread of the plants on his balcony.

Sonny, decked out in cargo shorts and work boots, t shirt and cap, is currently spreading mulch on his hands and knees.

Sonyn gets up once Will parks the car, waiting for Will to join him.

“How’s it looking?”

“Good. Ridiculously good. Like, ‘I had no idea what I was missing’ good. Which isn’t that good to begin with.”

“Slow to grow, very easy to care for.”

“They don’t look it. What exactly are they?”

“Veronicas, and they are. I love the variety with the royal purple, and just the touch of white in the center. They grow on the wood, so pruning on the wrong time of the year would be a really bad idea. Their color’s gonna stay till mid Autumn. And then there’s switchgrass for structure for ground cover and erosion control. It’ll be beautifully golden in the fall.”

Sonny dusts his hands off. “Wall’s getting there, so I put Chad and Lani on it to give you a serious bang for your buck when you get home. You’ve already been so patient, Horton, you deserved it.”

“It definitely succeeds. It’s so incredible. You’re a true artist.”

“That definitely just made my day. Thank you.”

He has incredibly gorgeous legs, Will muses. Long and tan. He smells like wood chips and freshly cut grass.

“Don’t think we’ve even talked besides through email since you stopped by the spectator.”

“You’re good with emails.”

“You too. Want another half of beer?”

“I’ll never say no to that.”

“Come on in.”

“Oh god no, I’m filthy.” Sonny reminds him, showing his arms. “No way am I gonna dirty up your clean house.”

“We can just sit outside. I can bring it out.”

When Will goes in, Sonny brushes himself off, stashing his gloves. After making his way up to the balcony, Sonny sits on one of the chairs Will picked out, letting out a satisfying, job-well-done sigh.

Damn does it feel good to just sit down. Even better when it’s coupled with admiring the view, smelling the mulch.

When Will comes back out, handing Sonny a glass, Sonny clinks it with Will’s own bottle.

“You chose wisely with the furniture. Casual, and comfortable.”

“I like it.” Will sits in a chair next to Sonny, gesturing to the view. “Now I’m the king of all that I see.”

“And rightfully so. How goes the magazine?”

“Swimmingly.”

And so satisfying too, Will muses. Way more than he was expecting it to be.

“I snagged a summer intern, and she seems to be taking to it well. I really think she’s going to work out. No need to ask how your business is doing. I can see it all right here. You were completely spot on with the wall.”

“Damn right I was.”

Will shakes his head. “I’m not just talking about the aesthetics, which haven’t fully gotten there yet anyway. I’m talking about how relieved my sister was when they all came up here for a barbeque and saw what we’re putting in here.”

“That’s what I like to hear. How’d it go? The barbeque I mean?”

“All I had to do was bring the food and drinks. Uncle Eric and Allie made everything else, so it went perfectly. So, the ex husband.”

Surprised, Sonny looks over. “What kind of segue was that?”

“A good one. In my head at least. Do I get a story behind that, or is it taboo?”

“If it was taboo, I would’ve made something up.” Sonny shrugs. “Okay. I’ve just become the new CEO of Titan Industries, and boom. He’s there. Pretty okay looking guy, and I met him on a dating app. Leo Stark.”

“Stark. Tony's dad.”

“Points for being up on your Marvel.”

“Big comic book fans all around in our family.” Will tells Sonny.

“Mine too. So, Leo--and he appears to be just as handsome as his profile picture. We start talking and hanging out, and I feel some kind of spark. And since he’s one of the few gay guys I didn’t already know, I figured what the hell. So I gave him a shot.”

“I’m guessing he did the same for you too.”

“Immediately. He kept it casual, cause he didn’t want to come on too strong. So he says he managed to score an exclusive wine tasting that hadn’t even made it onto the shelves yet, and he wanted to take me. Of course I say yes, because why wouldn’t I? I also found out he didn’t know a thing about wine or vintages, but I thought it was cute. He’d asked me out because he wanted to impress me. So far so good.”

“One thing led to more, yada yada yada. I met his mom, he met mine. Everything was great. We dated casually for a few weeks, and all I cared about was finally being with a guy who felt like he was tailor made for me. We go to Paris together--for both business and pleasure, for a good weekend.”

Half laughing, Sonny sips his beer. “I’d been before, of course, but never with a significant other. It’s incredible. I find out he’s been on my payroll all this time, and never told me. I wasn’t thinking about us at all--all I cared about was protecting the company. So, I said either he had to quit, or we couldn’t see each other anymore.”

Here, Sonny stops to study his beer. “I hated myself for putting him in that position, but I wouldn’t budge. He swore before we left, he’d filed his two weeks notice. There’s no way to sugar coat this, I leaped on him. I wasn’t thinking about anything but the fact that I had an amazing guy that was willing to respect my wishes, even if it meant giving up a good job.

Cut to after we get back, and me finding out the only thing he filed was a sexual harassment case. Claiming I used my position of authority to take advantage of him, even forcing him into a relationship he apparently didn’t actually want. If I tried to reason with him, he used it as more evidence against me. It was a nightmare. But now I can say, there were so many signs from the get go. But you know what they say about hindsight. Was he handsome, manipulative, pushy? Yep. But it was all hiding underneath the surface, overshadowed by the persona he put out, the one that swore up and down he cared about me.”

“I was such an idiot.” Sonny mumbles. “And he was a master manipulator.”

“You don’t have to be an idiot to be duped.” Will corrects him.

“Maybe. Anyway, right before we’re supposed to go to court, he comes by my place, making me an offer. If I wanted him to drop the suit and make it all go away, I had to marry him. No negotiation, just straight up marriage. He knew I was backed in a corner, and if I did anything but say yes, he knew it would reflect badly on me, or that he would just spin the story so it looked like I made him shut up.”

“You actually said yes?”

“I had to. I wanted to tell him to go to hell, but instead I let him stomp all over me, I’m not denying that. I thought, Well, this isn’t just about me. It’s for the sake of the company. Titan can’t afford to take a hit like this. It’s not like he was an ex con or something, right? The important thing was that the only one who had to take the hit was me.”

“So I married him. We had a private ceremony that he’d managed to pull together at the last minute. I refused to have a honeymoon, regardless of how much he begged me to let us consummate the marriage.”

“You weren’t thinking about that before you said yes?”

“Oh I did, and I was already putting my foot down. So I put him off long as I could, telling him he should have time to adjust to being a married man. I was young. I thought I had more time.”

“Ink’s barely even dry on the marriage license when he’s pushing for it again. He wants to consummate our marriage. Don’t I want to make it all as convincing as possible? Then it’s that I’m not as committed to him as he wants me to be. Being the CEO means I should be spending the money on his family, and now that means him.”

When Will laughs, Sonny has to smile back.

“Exactly. Being a CEO means the pressure is all on you, and you can’t afford to get distracted. Something he clearly never understood. And I’d already seen he had no plans to go get an actual job, not even the one he had at Titan, now that he was married to me.”

Sonny pauses here, staring at the view, boards gliding down the river. Will waits, not saying a word.

“A month or two after getting married, I come home after a really rough day, ending with getting stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, and there he is, drinking a really expensive scotch from my family’s liquor cabinet.”

Sonny has to stop again to take another breath. “He tells me how it’s going to be from now on. Look at me, always exhausted and tired, and he’s going to bed with a spouse that’s already asleep. A spouse that won’t even consummate our marriage. I’m supposed to do just that that very night.”

“I was too tired to care. It wasn’t the job. I loved it. It was the bullshit marriage that I wanted nothing to do with. Which I told him. I would keep up the pretense in public, but no way in hell was I gonna ever have sex with him. And, I added, I knew the truth about who he really was, and what he’d done. Next thing I knew, he was strangling me, then I was on the floor.”

Sonny shakes his head, “In the entire time I’d known him before finding out the truth, he’d never been one to be violent. He was a manipulative bastard, this was true, and he could be demanding when he wanted to. But those hands around my neck shocked me to no end. But I shouldn’t have been. He immediately apologized, telling him he’d just acted on impulse. I’d been married to him for two months, and here he was telling me his response to not getting what he wanted was trying to strangle me.”

WIll doesn’t say a word.

“I told him hell no. We were officially done, and I was filing for divorce, and nothing he could do was going to stop me. And all he was allowed to do was sign the papers.”

“How long was it before he actually did?”

“Two weeks. By then I was beating myself up over how stupid I was for falling for his gimmick. I’d fallen for Obidiah Stane, and I was beyond humiliated.”

Will can’t help it, placing a hand over Sonny’s. “He got what he deserved too.”

"Still took a while for Tony to wise up. Same goes for me. The man I’d met was so damn fake and...not all there. If I was spending time away from Titan to spend it with my mom, it meant longer time away from him. Or spending money he thought was his. If I disagreed, it meant I was thinking of leaving him. Anything that wasn’t me spending time with him was a sign I was trying to find a way out.”

Idiot, Sonny thinks again. He’d been such an idiot.

“I came home asking about the divorce papers again, and he wasted no time threatening me. Telling me either I had to throw the papers right out, add more zeroes, or otherwise he'd reopen the suit that got us there in the first place. My mistake was me saying he was going to be laughed right out of court. Then I felt a white hot pain in my back.”

Sonny pauses for a second, looking at the view until he feels ready to finish.

“Didn’t even bother strangling me this time. He’d hired an ex con to stab me in the back, and he just stood there and watched it happen. You can’t think about anything but the pain when you get stabbed like that. You just try to get away from it, even as your body gives out on you. It was a miracle I didn’t die. I tried staggering away, towards the neighbors. Couldn’t even see who I was talking to, just begged for help. Thank God for that. People were careful to not touch my back, even when he came out and tried to cover his ass. The cops showed up, and they got me out of there. Even when he tried to stir up the sexual harassment rumors, saying he was defending himself, it all fell on deaf ears.”

“I filed all the charges I could at him, and moved to San Francisco with my mom, who was dealing with divorcing my dad. She was a godsend, a straight from Heaven godsend. He tried getting a sketchy lawyer willing to bend the rules, but I had indisputable evidence. He got 3 to 5.”

"Should've been life."

"Had a pretty damn good lawyer. Got out on the minimum sentence. Even had a restraining order."

"Did he try coming back?"

"He tracked me down in San Francisco and grabbed me one night when I was out with friends. But this time he was the one caught off guard. I'd been taking self defense classes, including Krav Maga."

"Krav Maga? Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. I'd already completed the course, so whatever he tried, I was ready for it. I called the cops, they got him. Got five more years."

"Still isn't life."

"My mom talked about leaving, starting over when we knew he'd be getting out. But no way in hell was I doing that. We were already starting over, and I even had someone who actually loved me. And I wasn't gonna let Leo Stark ruin that too. If he was dumb enough to try again, he was going to get life. But when my boyfriend dumped me and my mom died almost back-to-back, there was no real reason to stick around. So I left."

Sonny finishes his drink. "And that is all I wrote."

"Has he tried anything since?"

"Haven't seen or heard a word. Not sure how he'd know I'm back home, or why he'd come back just to mess me up. So it's over."

"I highly doubt you were the first."

Sonny smiles, "Good instinct. Turns out all the digging I did paid off when I found out his real name was Matthew Cooper, and was running from the law because he'd killed his father. He'd never pulled off a ploy like with me, but he'd still gotten pretty far. Word to the wise: don't let a guy who looks perfect on a dating app blackmail you into marriage. The two months we lasted don't count."

"Why not annul it? Can't your dad do something?"

"I actually thought about it. But I really didn't feel like digging all that up again. Let sleeping dogs lie."

Just like finishing another book in the series, Will thinks. 

But he knows it never really goes away. Never.


	42. Chapter 42

“You hungry?”

“There you go with the segue again. What do you have available?”

“Only thing I know of for sure is frozen pizza.”

“Can’t go wrong with pizza. And I can probably finish off the beer if I have pizza with it.”

“Then we feast.”

“I’m taking my boots off outside, and wash up in your bathroom.”

“That’ll work.” Will rises as Sonny bends over to take his boots off. “Krav Maga?”

“I got the highest rank. I’m taking off the socks too. Too much sweat.”

“You’re a very intriguing person, Sonny.”

“You’re a pretty good looking guy who would look perfect on a dating app. Don’t you go blackmailing me into marriage.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Will opens the door, and Sonny walks in barefoot, his tattoo visible.

Which reminds Will.

“What’s with the ink?”

“Oh.” Sonny reaches up a hand to touch it. “I got it the day I left for San Francisco. New beginnings, right? My mom was always saying how regardless of how good or bad things were, there was always a new beginning on the horizon.”

Now he takes a look. “You ordered more stuff.” he notes.

“Kinda been picking stuff up here and there.”

“Nice.” Sonny points to the piece of art over the fireplace. The river at sunset, misty and spooky.

“Yeah, it just spoke to me. Artist is local too.”

“Really keeps you in the present. Guy like you, I would’ve expected a big screen TV.”

“That’s in the other living room.”

“Looking good, Horton. Really, really good. Are you feeling at home here?” Sonny asks as they walk to the kitchen.

“I am. What about your place?”

“I’m working on the outside for now. The interior needs a lot of work too, but I can worry about that in the winter when business slows down. Or when it rains.”

Will pulls out the frozen pizza. “You good with pepperoni?”

“I will never not be good with pepperoni.” While Will gets the oven ready, Sonny sits on a chair. “There’s just something about a really good looking guy who would look perfect on a dating app cook.”

“Jokes on you. You should see me make a sandwich.” Will grabs a beer, a new glass, splitting it with Sonny. “You planning on doing the interior too?”

“It’s just cosmetic stuff. There’s really ugly wallpaper everywhere. So I have to peel it all off, sand the walls, then repaint it. I’ve been picking stuff up here and there too. Actually, I have your kitchen to thank for it.”

“You do?”

  
“Yeah, all the glass. My kitchen is crap. Complete and utter crap. I’ll replace them al eventually, but right now I just wanted to paint them. Then I thought about all the glass in here. I took the doors off. What do I have to hide, anyway? I painted everything else, got some real nice plates and glasses. Done and done. Well, I still had to paint the lower ones.”

Sonny sips his beer while Will unwraps the pizza, sliding it into the oven, setting the timer.

“Okay, you got the story of my stab wounds. Do I get the story of your broken nose?”

Will lifts his beer bottle to drink, studying Sonny critically. “You mean you don’t already know?”

“I know, I’m surprised too. People tend to tell me all kinds of stuff. But from the little time I’ve been back here, they’re all very respectful of the Horton/Brady family. I can too, if that’s what you want.”

“Not really even a secret. I’m both surprised and touched this isn’t the first thing everyone talks about. Do you want the CliffNotes version, or the whole nine yards?”

“I like stories. Devil’s in the details.”

“Well, that might take a while. For starters, my step grandfather beat the crap out of my mom for as long as I can remember Stefano DiMera was admired as much as he was feared, and he was still well respected. On the outside, he and Sami, his daughter in law, were the dynamic duo. She had two children and lived in Salem’s very own Pleasantville.”

“The DiMera mansion.”

Impressed Sonny guessed correctly, which most likely means Sonny sees it the same as Will, Will goes on, “That’s it. He was the CEO of DiMera Enterprises. Sami was hostess and chairwoman, even president of the PTA. We had help to cook and clean three times a week. Grounds keepers, fancy cars. All in all, perfect upper class family.”

“But you got caught in the undertow. That’s what I call it, like what happened with Leo.”

“That’s a good way to put it.” Will gingerly picks up the baseball he’d left on the table, rubbing it. “Yeah, always caught in the undertow. Never knew when he was going to hit you. Never in public, always hitting where no one would see it. The other times--let’s use it--I was caught in the undertow, which I really didn’t get for the longest time, was Sami, my mom, actually liked it.”

“Oh my God...”

“I know, I know. You don’t need to say it. I know all the symptoms of battered wife syndrome, why a woman won’t leave, why she’d blame herself. This wasn’t that. You’ll be well aware of that as we keep going.”

“Okay.”

“I actually don’t remember, not in detail, the first time he hit me. I don’t mean the typical smack upside the head or even a spanking. He liked hitting in the gut, or the kidneys, even the ribs. He always knew where exactly to hit. He didn’t hit Allie, not back then at least. He made her so insecure, all of us, but that’s what he liked to do to her. Verbal and emotional. Allie and I were just never good enough.”

“That’s-That’s just awful. You couldn’t tell anyone?”

“He scared the crap out of us, and they were practically joined at the hip. We were just symbols of status to them. Weirdly, we were their own beard. If Stefano went after our mom at nighttime, Allie would sneak into my room. We’d just sit there until it was over. Once it stopped, the showering with gifts started. That was almost just as sickening.”

“Anyway, that’s just how our life was. That all changed December 23rd, 2007.”

Will spares no detail, coming home with Allie, the blood, the screaming. How he’d lost it trying to stop Stefano. The serious beat down that he got for his troubles.

“So.” Will finishes, “Believe me when I say I understand being with someone who isn’t what they seem.”

When the timer finally goes off, Will grabs a serving plate, grabbing a pizza cutter as well. “You want a plate?”

“I...” Sonny needs to take a breath, to push away the clenched fist currently squeezing the air out of his lungs. “I demand a plate. In fact, why don’t I get it? I can see them perfectly in the glass cabinets.”

“Knife and fork too?”

Sonny manages an arrogant look. “Please don’t insult me. I’ll just take the plates back out to your amazing new table. Nice night for eating al fresco.”

“I’ll allow it.”

Sonny takes the plates, giving himself a second. He can’t get past those two kids, living in a house haunted by abuse, real fear and violence.

And somehow surviving, refusing to let themselves stay caught in the undertow.

Will comes out of the house, sitting across from Sonny, dropping a slice on Sonny’s plate.

“An actual pizza stone. Color me impressed.”

“It’s practically a staple. Want the rest too?”

“Only if you’re okay with telling me.”

“We’re already here. They told everyone I was sick. My grandparents were visiting, staying with Uncle Eric. We were supposed to have a perfectly catered Christmas dinner at the mansion. But they changed all of that. Wouldn't let anyone see me. Uncle Eric brought soup over for me, but they wouldn't let me see him. Allie told me Uncle Eric fought hard, but they all but shoved him out the door. What could he do, anyway?"

"I'm happy to hear that. I want to say he's probably my favorite person in Salem. I'm glad he was there for you, to stand up for you."

"That's not all he did--but I'm getting ahead of myself. We went to the ski resort day after Christmas. Family thing. Got me in the car, left early. Told the people at the resort I got hurt in a bike accident. When we got back, they told everyone I got in a skiing accident."

"And that worked?"

"For a little bit. I got myself fixed up, and went to Kaye--T's mom. Asked her to teach me how to lift weights. Said it was for baseball."

"You wanted to be strong." Like with himself and Krav Maga.

"And I was. They'd decided I was going to Salem U for a business degree, so I decided I'd apply for baseball scholarships when I had to. I wasn't going to tell them. I'd get my scholarships, save money, get a job, I didn't care. And once I was 18, I'd be gone. He'd never be stupid enough to hit Allie, and she just had a couple more years. I'd do everything I could to protect her. But he wasn't getting another hand on me ever again."

Will bites his pizza. "And of course, when I was in college, the Titans would be so impressed with my skill and natural talent, they'd sign me right then and there."

"I heard your skill was amazing. State, even MVP."

"It's all I ever wanted. Then everything slipped away again."

He tells Sonny about the dance, as well as Mia.

"Mia McCormick? As in Doug from Doug's Place's wife, Mia?"

"That's the one."

"She's amazing."

"She was my first real love." Will pats a hand to his chest. "It was such a good night. Until I finally came home--9 minutes past curfew--and there he was, waiting to pounce."

Sonny keeps listening, a look of horror on his face. The pure hatred, the violence, the kid just trying to keep his little sister safe. Fighting back only to have his own mom turn on him.

"How the hell could they ever believe you would ever hurt your family like that?"

"Because Stefano said I did, and Sami backed up every single word."

"No one believed you?"

"Kaye did. She stayed with me in the ambulance, and at the hospital. I will never forget what she did for me. She called Uncle Eric. She fought with the arresting officer, but he had his orders from Stefano's connection, the police commissioner."

That sends a jolt up Sonny's spine. "You don't mean…?"

"No, no. Hope wasn't even in Salem back then. My arm was so messed up, I was going to have surgery. But the doctor stabilized it. He fight the order too, bit there was nothing you can do. I asked Kaye to take my key to the DiMera mansion so she could grab my journals where I hid them. They hauled me off to Statesville."

*Which is…?"

"Prison a few towns over. Want some more beer?"

"No." Sonny feels like he's going to throw up.

"Soda?"

"Yeah that works." Maybe Will needs a second too.

When Will goes inside, Sonny thnks of his own mom, and the absolute certainty that his mom would’ve stood up for him without even blinking an eye. How she actually had, when it was his turn. How she was there every night when he was in the hospital, stayed by his bed while he told the cops and the lawyers, everything. 

She was never not there.

When Will comes back and sits down, Sonny leans forward, “Your mom actually let them hurt you like that?”

“With no remorse.”

“Then you were right before. She wasn’t a victim at all. She was just as abusive as him. You must’ve been scared out of your mind.”

“Actually by them I’d become so numb I could barely even feel it. That night was anything but easy. A big part I didn’t know is that while I was being hauled off to Statesville, Allie had snuck out of her room. He was there when she woke up, threatened her, and basically had her locked up too. She snuck out and used the phone to call Uncle Eric. Only it turned out Uncle Eric was already there demanding answers.”

As Will speaks, Sonny imagines the woman he knows as a little girl, hurt herself but sneaking through the hospital barefoot and in nothing but a hospital gown. And the man that not only loves her, but believed her, and got her out of there. Taking her to the cops.

“And then came Hope. Detective Hope Williams of the Chicago PD.” Will goes on.

“Is that how they met?”

“Yeah. She listened to the whole story. Not sure how much she believed initially, but she still listened. Kaye grabbed my journals, drove to Chicago and the cops. However much she actually believed, she believed enough to take action. Made all the appropriate calls, asked all the right questions. Talked to the ski resort, found out when I showed up I was already injured. Oh yeah, and Stefano tried the ‘he’s on drugs’ ploy, but my tox screen came back clean. Hope knew the former commissioner, and she went off on him, laid everything out. The ski accident lie folded right along with the bike accident lie. Hope visited me at Statesville, released me to Uncle Eric’s custody. And then she had Stefano and Sami arrested.”

“She deserves someone like Eric. She’s a damn hero.”

“She’s definitely mine.”

“Did they actually go to prison?”

“Sami served a few years. He did 10, along with some loose change. Now he’s out on parole for good behavior.”

Then Sonny remembers Will’s earlier comment.

_Should’ve been life._

“And how do you feel about that?”

“The only thing they’ll get here is humiliation. He was removed by DiMera’s shareholders, and he’s not going to be voted back in anytime soon. Feels fine to me.”

That’s the journalist in him, Sonny supposed. But he’s not so convinced the boy inside him feels the same way.

“Did you ever go visit them?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Sounds healthy to me. I’m no therapist like Marlena or your sister, but I did see one for a while. After Leo,” Sonny explains, “But I think cutting all the toxicity out of your life is a good thing. Not to mention, you have all the family that matters here, and it’s awesome. I love that your uncle and Hope fell in love. Makes it all that much better. He’s your dad.”

“He is, in all the ways that count. Let’s hash out all the ugly stuff. How’d you lose your mom?”

“Car accident. Aunt Maggie got drunk and got behind the wheel trying to get to her daughter in labor, ran her off the road.”

“My god, Sonny, I’m so sorry."

Sonny shakes his head. “My mom was driving a friend to the hospital, and was just run off the road. They thought it was just a hit and run. They said she didn’t suffer, and I hope they’re right. Turns out it wasn't, and my uncle Vic and cousin Xander tried to cover it up, let someone else confess to the whole thing.”

Sonny stops to drink here, “Same night, a guy was texting and driving. Apparently he took his eyes off the road for just a second, and saw the whole thing. He thought he ran my mom off the road, even got her to the hospital and told the cops it was him."

“They kept it quiet all that time?”

“Uncle Vic would do anything for Maggie, even lie. She's serving her time as we speak. Absolute worst day of my life. She was the best mom.”

“And your dad?”

“Things were tough for a while when he divorced my mom, but we managed to reconcile, which was another part of why I came here. He’s a good guy.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, my mom had several accounts she got in the divorce, but he didn’t ask for them back. Didn’t demand to have anything she bought with them back either. Literally the only reason they got divorced was them falling out of sync. I guarantee if they’d been given enough time, they could’ve reconciled.”

“As Allie says, and how do you feel about that?”

“Still okay with it. I hate that they felt divorce was the only option. They still loved each other. I still remember the years they were happy together. He was never disrespectful towards her, and I still wonder what would’ve happened if my dad had never cheated.”

“You’re pretty chill about it yourself.”

“We’re both healthy as horses.”

“We should---first things first.” Will cocks his head. “I just realized that outside of T, Kaye and Richard, I’ve never really told anyone about that. I’m gonna be up all night wondering why I told you over pizza and beer.”

“People talk to me.”

“Maybe. Anywho, now that all the ugly stuff is all hashed out, let’s have dessert.”

“Dessert?” Sonny smiles. “This is getting interesting. What do you have.”

“Ice cream.”

“Ben and Jerry?”

“What else?”

“Count me in.”


	43. Chapter 43

They eat Ben and Jerry while the sun sets, the light shining over the mountains.

“There’s another painting right there.” Sonny points out. “Just imagine sitting right here, eating the most iconic ice cream brand, watching the sun go down, listening to the water hitting the rock and pooling into the stream.

“I already said yes.”

“You still need to picture it. You need a birdhouse too.”

“Why?”

“Birds.” Sonny states simply. “Some of what I’m planting out here attracts them, butterflies too. But they’d definitely appreciate a house. Feeder too, why not. God, this is incredible. I could spend the rest of my life working on your place.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“But that’s all I can handle for tonight. I’m gonna load up you dishwasher to thank you for the meal.”

“I almost want to say you don’t have to do that, but why bother?”

Sonny gets up, stacking the plates, clearing the table. Will follows him back in, watching how Sonny deals with them.

“You know something?” Will starts. “I don’t think we ever talked about our kiss outside the softball game.”

“Do we need to?”

“Here’s my idea. You’re coming in for an interview. I’m benefitting from your landscaping business. So the professional aspect isn’t a problem.”

“I’ll agree with that.”

“We’ve both established we’re relatively healthy. I’m a good looking guy that would look perfect on a dating app, and you’re a very hot guy who can pull off cargo shorts.”

“That’s true too.”

“What do you say to going for a drink, or dinner? Or the movies. Or...”

Sonny turns around, leaning back. “You already bought me pizza and a beer, and Ben and Jerry. I think we have drinks and dinner covered.”

“Thanks for pointing that out. Movies?”

“I could do that. I also wouldn’t say no to whatever ‘or’ is.”

Will steps closer, watches Sonny’s eyes. A lot of interest there, and amusement. “I have all the streaming services. I can find us something in less than a minute.”

“Popcorn?”

“Orville Redenbacher. Microwave.”

“Very tempting.” Especially when Will has his hands on Sonny’s hips, same as he did when they kissed at the softball game. “I would like a movie, and I believe I said I wouldn’t say no to ‘or’ either, but...”

Will pauses to kiss Sonny. “I know I’m not gonna like whatever ‘but’ is.”

“I’m disgusting.” Sonny reminds Will. “I’d love nothing more than to check out ‘or’ once I’m all cleaned up, and probably wearing something more appropriate.”

“Use the shower. And I like those shorts. Especially when you’re still wearing your work boots.”

“Thanks. You’re too kind. I’ll make you a deal. If you’re not busy tomorrow, I’ll shower at my place after work, then show up around 8 for a movie. Then if we’re both open and willing, let’s give ‘or’ a go.”

Will’s always open to bartering. “7:30. Can’t forget drinks.”

“Right, drinks. So classy. I’m definitely gonna need to clean myself up for that.”

“Alright. What movie do you have in mind?”

“Since we both know it’s just foreplay, no tear jerkers. Romcom or action’s a safe bet.”

“You are one interesting guy.”

Will goes in for a kiss, and Sonny leans in as well, wrapping his arms around Will.

Will feels himself lean into the kiss, into Sonny, as easy as sliding into the river to go swimming.

The need overpowers him, pulling Sonny in until WIll’s hands are all over his body, down Sonny’s back, committing it to memory.

Will feels Sonny give just another inch, and another.

When Will pulls away, Sonny’s hand resting on Will’s face, heart pounding in sync with Will’s.

“I kinda like my men dirty.”

“Oh Jesus.” Sonny’s breath, so unsteady, warm against Will’s mouth. “We had a plan. If I’m gonna change it, you have to sway me. You okay?”

Will tells him, “Yes, I am.”

Sonny raises a finger to Will’s mouth, then leans back in, letting the hunger win out. This time when their lips touch, Will pushes back, almost like he’s trying to bury himself.

“Okay, I’m in.” Sonny nips Will’s bottom lip. “God you smell way better than me. I really should take that shower.”

“Later.”

"Later." Sonny murmurs as Will leans back in, and for a moment, they're content to just stand there, holding each other as their lips stay connected.

“Same here.” Will pauses at the bottom of the stairs, giving him more motive to stay, then leads him up.

“God, I love this house. I’d probably just do you just to see what else you’ve done here.”

“Oh great, now you tell me.”

Sonny laughs, biting his lip again, then his head pulls back as Will leads him right to the master bedroom.

“Jesus, just look at it!”

“You’ll get the full tour later.”

“Oh not the bed, not yet. My clothes--”

“You won’t have to worry about those for much longer. And I got spare sheets too.”

Slowly, Will keeps his eyes on Sonny as Will lets Sonny work his shirt off, then gently push it right of his shoulders, exposing the bare skin underneath.

Will takes that as his cue to lean back in, all while slowly working Sonny’s shirt off, then lets Sonny brings his hands back up as they both lean in.

Will pushes Sonny onto the bed, prompting Sonny to slide back, and Will slides right after him.

Keeping their hands together, Will devours the kiss like a dying man.

Maybe he is. Sonny’s been waking him up almost since they first met, fascinated by the first conversation. Then Sonny had gone and left him with blue balls outside the softball game.

Now he’s going to live.

Sonny’s hands, strong and tough, mouth soft. The sharp angles of his face, with the skin covering his jaw, down his throat so delicate. Tough muscles, yielding pecs.

Sonny’s practically radiating with contrasting traits.

Will tugs off Sonny’s boxers, and Sonny wastes no time doing the same. More skin and muscle. Sonny keeps running his hands over Will’s chest, panting.

“More.”

Will just wants to keep looking at Sonny, but his hands won’t obey him. When they finally work off Sonny’s undershirt, Will thinks _more_ , as he captures Sonny’s nipple with his mouth.

As Sonny arches into him, WIll rides that urgency for all its worth.

Out of breath, struggling to stay in control, Will pulls back. “Maybe we should take it slow.”

“No.” Sonny says definitively. “No we absolutely should not.”

“Thank you, world.”

They roll over so Will can officially kick his boxers off, rolling again, greedy for more.

Slow will have its day. Right now Sonny wants fast, furious, and free. RIght here, with this man, he wants to give up control, for both of them to, just wants to immerse himself in wanting. To let Will touch him, want him, feel his need pulsing in sync with his own.

When Will sinks into him, finally, finally, his pleasure hits him like a semi truck.

He pumps his hips, fingers digging into Will’s as he gives himself over to the power and speed.

Release rips right through him, leaving him gasping and shaking.

Thankful.

And still Will plows right into him, building him back up.

Sonny hangs on, matching Will with every beat. When Sonny falls again, when the hands holding Will slide off, Will falls with him.

After a moment where they’re both gasping for air, they both turn until they’re both on their backs, so they’re touching hips, staring up at the ceiling, then, after linking their hands together again, look at each other, smiling.

Then, Sonny looks towards Will, kissing his hand, asking, "You okay?"

Will shakes his head, “No, I think ‘okay’ is way too mild.”

At that, Sonny looks disappointed. “You don’t have to pretend-”

“It was perfect.” Will cuts him off.

Sonny’s face lights up. “Yeah?”

Will nods. “Mhm. How about you?”

“No, perfect. Perfect’s the word.”

Then, after a beat, Will speaks up, “It’s official. I do, in fact, like my men dirty.”

Sonny’s laugh still has a wheeze to it, ending on a sigh. “Looks like I like a man who’s jacked. Not ridiculously jacked.”

Sonny rests his head in Will’s chest, right as Will reaches up an arm to let him.

“That would be scary. Once I’m back on the earth plane.”

“Shall we just call it round two?”

“I think we both won that one”

“You can say that again.”

But that just makes Sonny notice some hesitation in Will’s tone, “What?”

Will shakes his head, “Nothing.”

Sonny pushes, “No, you were gonna say something.”

Will tries to blow it off again, “No, I wasn't."

Sonny calls him on it, "Yes you were!"

"It was wrong for this moment, I think.”

At that, Sonny kisses Will’s chest and moves so they’re face to face again, telling him, “In this moment, nothing can be wrong.”

Will chuckles, “I don’t know. I think you might wanna run.”

Sonny jokes, “That’s a good try, but it’s not working. Just tell me.”

When Will shakes his head, Sonny pushes, “Tell me.”

Maybe because it’s Sonny’s natural ability to get people to tell him stuff, or maybe because he’s still in post sex bliss, Will concedes, “Okay. Just…”

Will hesitates for one more second, then just says it, “It’s been a while, so definitely round two.”

This is nice, Sonny thinks, that they can just lie like this, and just talk.

“How long is a while?”

“Maybe ten or 11 months.” Staring past Sonny towards the wall, Will decides he’s too blissed out to think of the exact time.

“I was in a semi serious relationship. When I decided I was coming home, he fully supported it, he understood completely. And we both decided sex wasn’t on the table anymore.”

“Ten or 11 months?” Sonny scoffs. “That’s nothing. I’ve gone way longer than that. Crazy ex husband, time spent questioning what I really wanted, finding someone I really cared about only to lose him to preferring staying in the closet to being with me, losing my mom, and deciding to come back home. Whole thing.”

“That would definitely do it.”

“But I think that worked out for the best anyway. I think we’re both set to living in the now.”

Will shifts, looking at him, “Any more thoughts to round two?”

“Worked out the first time just fine. But I’m dying for that shower. It’s huge, from what I remember. Plenty of room for two individuals as ourselves.”

“And a buttload of hot water.”

“Awesome. But I’m not putting those grimy clothes back on after taking one. I’ve got spares, as a just in case.”

“Just in case you’re gonna sleep with someone?”

“If you’re gonna get dirty, or something else.” Sonny rolls himself out of bed. “I’m just gonna grab them. Back in a flash.”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually going outside like that.”

Sonny drags a hand through his messed up hair, “Like what?”

“In your birthday suit. And just so you know, you’re the one that’s jacked.”

“My truck is right out there, and no one’s here but us. And you’ve already seen my birthday suit. 3 minutes tops.”

As Sonny dashes out, Will forces himself up. He doesn’t think he’s that modest, but here Sonny is going outside naked.

The man he’d walked away from in Chicago might’ve done it, but he was nice enough not to, at least not in front of him.

He also wouldn’t have left the apartment without grooming himself. He doesn’t think he’s seen Sonny do any of that.

If anyone were to ask, Will would say that Sonny isn’t even his type. And here he is, dying to get Sonny in the shower with him.

Standing up, Will walks to his balcony doors, opening them up, standing to watch Sonny’s naked body pull a bag out of his truck. Sonny looks up, laughing and throwing his arms up.

“If this were San Francisco, I would’ve been arrested or fined.”

Will swears he can feel something shift in his chest. “Jesus, I’d almost swear you’re a Kamaitachi.”

“A Tamagotchi?”

“No.” Now Will’s the one laughing. “Not the 90s Japanese toy. Kamaitachi--japanese wind spirit.”

“That’s way better. Can I stop by the kitchen first? I can grab some water for the both of us.”

“There’s a mini fridge up here.”

“Naturally. Be right up.”


	44. Chapter 44

Sonny’s internal clock wakes him up right before the sun comes out. He holds still, thinking about how he’s waking up in Will’s bed.

Sonny really wasn’t planning on staying the night, and he’s pretty sure Will hadn’t planned it that way either.

Sex between two consenting adults can only result in one thing. Sleeping together just puts a whole different layer to the whole thing.

But they’d wound up having sex in the shower, while their lips never parted under the running water.

That, of course, led to more ice cream, which just ended up leading to even more sex. And that--let’s just call it the love making round--had just wiped them both out.

So when Will had muttered, “You can just stay the night.”, Sonny managed to croak out an, “Okay.” before falling asleep.

Now for the resulting problem. Sonny has to get up and dressed most likely an entire hour before Will. It may not have been as long a while as Will’s gone without sleeping with someone, but he hopes he still remembers his skills of sneaking away from his time with Paul.

While Sonny adjusts to the dark, he recalls the entire room, as well as where all the furniture, in his head. Balcony doors on the left, master bathroom, walk in closet, and dressing room on the right. Which puts the dresser drawers at about 8 o'clock, and the couch and coffee table at 4.

And the small bench at the end of the bed--where he’d put his duffle bag. He can’t remember where he put yesterday’s clothes, but he’s sure he’ll find them.

Sonny eases himself out of bed, making his way slowly towards the bench, using his foot to feel for stray clothes. He finds his undershirt from yesterday, t-shirt, before finally getting to his duffle bag.

“Why are you trying to sneak out?”

Sonny doesn’t jump, but his breath catches at the mumbler from behind him. “Damnit. Sneak out fail. Sorry to wake you up. The whole point was to not wake you up.”

“I’m a very light sleeper.”

“Clearly. Go back to your light sleep. I’m getting dressed in the bathroom. But now that you're a little awake, do you by chance have a spare toothbrush?”

“Third shelf in the linen closet. Uncle Eric calls it a hospitality...something. Spare everything’s in there. It’s not even light out.”

“Actually the sun’s about to come out any second. Shush. Go back to sleep.”

Sonny closes the door to the bathroom, deciding the best course of action is yet another shower. Sticking to his routine, he slaps on some sunscreen from his duffle bag. Once he’s completely dressed, he finds the toothbrush exactly where Will said it was.

Now he needs the pants from yesterday, which means he also needs his belt, phone, multitool, and spare change.

His plan was to sneak out of here, but when he opens the bathroom door, the room is illuminated, with Will sitting on his bed, staring out past the open doors to the balcony..

“So there is a brief period between night and day.” Will says. “Can’t believe I never thought about that before.”

“I love how there’s always birds at this time, all excited.” Sonny walks over, kissing one of Will’s shoulders. “Really sorry to wake you.”

“I had a really hot, naked guy in my shower, which made me start thinking of said guy, hot and naked. How could anyone be expected to sleep with that going on?”

“Well, in that case, can you trust me enough to let me make coffee for you?”

At that Will turns to look at Sonny, “You can make coffee?”

“I can, especially if you have cereal. Not that ice cream isn’t the perfect meal, but I try to save that for weekends only.”

“I have Cheerios.”

“That’ll work. Fruit?”

“Strawberries. I think.”

“Then I can make breakfast too.” Sonny kisses Will lightly again, then gets back up, grabbing the rest of his clothes as he goes.

By the time Will joins him downstairs, Sonny’s already opened the entire downstairs to the morning light. The outdoor table’s been set again, with place mats Will’s positive he’s never used before, real napkins, even a small vase filled with what Will’s assuming are weeds.

There’s bowls, sugar and creamers, juice, and glasses.

Take the box of Cheerios, and you’d think you were dining al fresco at a restaurant. Will takes note of Sonny’s work boots sitting by the open back door, and Sonny walking in barefoot.

“Hey. Wasn’t sure how long you’d take, so I stalled with the coffee. Also needed to get familiar with your particular machine.”

Sonny walks over to it as he speaks, taking one of Will’s huge coffee mugs. “Go outside. Sit. I’ll bring it to you.”

Still bleary eyed, Will does as instructed while the coffee maker works its magic and finally makes the smell they’ve been waiting for.

Sonny brings the mugs out--one that’s only about more than half full. When he sets them down, Will lifts one, letting the scent send the jolt of caffeine to his brain.

“You drink it black, like a caveman. It always amazes me to see someone drinking it black. My preference doesn’t even look like coffee.”

Will watches as Sonny dumps milk, drenching it with 5, count them, 5 spoonfuls of sugar.

“You’re right. You can’t even rightfully call it coffee.”

“That’s the idea. But it still gives me that pick-me-up I need first thing in the morning.”

Shaking is head, Will pours some cereal in Sonny’s bowl, then his. Sonny covers hos own with milk, quickly slicing a small strawberry over it.

Then he holds out the others, “Want some?”

“Guess so.”

Before Will can grab the bowl, Sonny slices it right over Will’s cereal.

“No sugar?” Will asks as Sonny takes a bite.

“I actually like Cheerios. And don’t think I didn’t see that you combined Frosted with Honey Nut.”

“Yes I did.”

“That’s just good planning, and now I’m gonna steal that for myself in my own house.”  
They eat in a comfortable silence until Will gestures towards the vase. “Those are weeds, aren’t they?”

“Actually, they’re wildflowers.” Sonny corrects him. “Native ones. And they’re yours, because the wildlife is alive with them. Snakeroot, pansies, spiderwort. Clearly I need to get you a plant book so you can identify the plants in your own backyard.”

Will takes another sip of coffee. “You look so good in the morning. And you smell like you’ve been tanning on the beach.”

“That’s the sunscreen. Not gonna last. The smell, I mean. I put some on every few hours or so, but the smell gets buried by sweat, dirt, and whatever else I’m working with. All of which I need to start working on.”

“Your crew’s not even here yet.”

“They’re about to be.” Sonny stand, starts stacking the dishes.

“Let me do that. You made everything.”

“I set the table, and I do just as good with presentation as I do cooking. I’m taking these in so I can steal a drink for later.”

Will takes the rest in behind Sonny, grabbing a drink out of the fridge, handing it to Sonny. “We still doing popcorn and a movie?”

Sonny’s already smiling with his eyes as he replies, “Sure. 7:30, right?”

“7:30.” Will grabs Sonny by the neck, pulling him in, kissing Sonny in a way he hopes to keep in the forefront until Will gets to see him again.

“Well then.” Sonny’s hands trail through Will’s golden locks. “If I stop by at 7, I think I’ll finally take you up on a tour of the house.”

“7 it is.”

Then Will kisses him again.

As the days pass by, the wall’s almost finished. Sonny manages to juggle all the jobs lined up, glad to know his work’s getting attention. He spends more nights than he’s sure either of them planned overnight at Will’s place.

He’s not too keen on the future in store there. Right now, the future is his business, his place in Salem, and the life he’s rebuilding for himself.

And yet, the day he sees the finished wall, the lower level full of good quality dirt perfect for planting, he thinks of Will.

Whatever happens next, Will’s gonna have this, and will always remember.

“It’s so beautiful.” Ciara stands next to him, proud in a way Sonny can definitely relate to. “I’ve never done anything like this before. And it’s so gorgeous.”

Sonny rests an arm on her shoulder. He’s got an inch or two on her. “It’ll be even more beautiful once it’s all planted.”

Lani wraps an arm around Ciara’s other shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Let’s do it.”

“Chad, go back and work with Ben on the back wall. I’ll get Ciara and Lani started.”

He takes off his cap, waving it front of him, setting it on his head again. “Sonny, you’re working me to death.”

“You look fine to me. Anyway, we gotta finish up whatever we can today. It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.”

Chad frowns as he looks up at the sky, tipping his cap back. “I don’t see rain.”

“Believe me. Or the weather channel. It’s gonna be a lightning and thunder tonight, and soaking rain tomorrow. You can sleep in.”

Now Chad’s all smiles. “I just might take the whole day off.”

Sonny helps wheel the plants over, jumping off so Lani can pass them over, first to Sonny, then to Ciara. It takes all of them to haul the eastern redbud he wants for the far side.

When Sonny sets them down, he gives himself a boost back up, to see the effect.

“Ciara, switch the lobelias, those there, with the purple ones. There we go, balance it better. It’s going to look so good. Grab your shovels. I’m gonna check on Chad and Ben.”

He can see the structure of the wall as Chad and Ben work together, only grunting as Chad’s iPod plays on a playlist.

There he’s gonna plant some hibiscus for their color, the incredible smell, one on both ends to anchor all the textures of color between it all.

Then when Will comes out to sit on the deck, with all the smells, and colors, with the small kitchen garden Sonny’s already gotten going in pots, Will’s gonna remember.

Sonny takes a good chug from his water bottle, then jumps headfirst into his work.

When Lani calls out, “You wanna come see, before we put in mulch?” Sonny takes a step back, to check the time.

“Yeah, I’ll look. We can finish, then you can get out of here.” Sonny jabs Chad in the ribs. “All of you.”

“I’m ready for it.”

“Will’s gonna be back before long.” Lani notes as she makes her way back with Sonny.

“Isn’t he gonna have a sight waiting for him?”

“You planning on sticking around so you can see for yourself?”

“Maybe.”

Lani stops, once they’re out of earshot of Ciara up front and the guys in the back. “You know, every morning when he shows up to watch us work before he leaves for the square, it’s hard to not notice how...” She gestures vaguely in the air.

“How…?” Sonny copies her.

“I know not to go spreading gossip, Sonny, but I feel like I should tell you it’s probably not as hush hush as you think about you and Will...being together.”

Honestly, Sonny hadn’t given it much thought either way. “It’s not even a secret, it’s just, uh, not flaunting it.”

“There’s a way to say it.” Lani pats him on the shoulder. “Anyway, he’s what my dad would call prime rib.”

“I’m not out hunting for meat.”

“Sonny, we all are. It’s only natural.”

Sonny keeps thinking about it as he cleans up, and the crew takes off. 

Maybe, just to test the waters, he needs to push the flaunting rule a little.

He hops in his truck, drives himself home. Pausing on the road, he looks up. And seeing that wall, the plants rising up, fluttering, Sonny sighs.

“Good work,” he says out loud. “Damn good.”

He’s barely washed off the day when he gets the text from Will.

_My God. Just, my God. I owe you beer, wine, half my takeout dinner. Please come back._

Sonny wants to so badly, maybe more than he’s comfortable admitting. But then he looks around his own place, at all the stuff he hasn’t so much as touched.

_S: Wait till sunset, after the lights come on. Even more my God in store. Have to pass on the beer, wine, and takeout. Gotta catch up on some paperwork. Take a walk on my behalf after it gets dark._

_W: Oh, I will. Don’t work yourself so hard. See you tomorrow._

What happened to checking the weather channel? But all Sonny texts back is,

_G’night._


	45. Chapter 45

The storm hits with a flash of light, and a bang. Dead to the world, Sonny sleeps through the worst of it. Then wakes himself right up an entire hour before his internal clock is set to go off.

He just lays there in the dark, listening to the bangs echoing through the walls, the thunder accompanying the flooding rain.

Sleep now just a happy memory, his mind goes from streams--can’t wait to make it happen--to the paperwork--all nice and up to date--to Will. Is he having trouble sleeping same as him?

If Sonny had taken up Will’s offer when he originally made it, Sonny would have someone to get through this ugly storm with him.

And his paperwork wouldn’t even be close to current.

Part of the trade-off, he decides, as his mind keeps wandering.

When lightning lights up the bedroom, he decides he’s getting up. In his kitchen, he makes himself some coffee, drinking it in the open doorway, taking in the angry storm.

Quite the sight to behold, he thinks, the energy pounding and cracking, jagging up the sky like broken glass, the mountains illuminated for the briefest of seconds before they go dark again.

And yet, it succeeds in reminding Sonny how alone he really is. He might as well be on a deserted island, surrounded by dangerous waters.

With loads of food, he reminds himself, a roof over his head, and electricity. At least for a second.

As he thinks that, Sonny grabs a flashlight, checking the batteries, fills a few jugs full of water, considering to get himself a small generator.

And maybe a dog. They’re good company, he muses. That’s something to seriously consider.

But right now, his time can be better spent on getting rid of the abominations that is wallpaper.

By midafternoon, the storm’s officially turned to a steady pouring rain, the air hot and steamy.

After taking several breaks to blow off steam, Sonny finally manages to get off the last tough piece of wallpaper.

“Ta-fucking-dah.” he mutters, wiping his face. “You’re going down, you son of a bitch.”

Maybe his kitchen looks like a bomb went off on it, but he’s seeing to it the wallpaper goes down. All he has to do now is wash the walls, which underneath the paper is revealed to be an even uglier shade of green, wait for them to dry off--which’ll be anywhere between now and the next millennium or so--prime it, then paint it.

He steps over a pile of the wallpaper, crouching down to grab a bucket from under the seat. 

And shaves off a good 20 years of his life expectancy when he hears knocking on his doorjamb.

There’s Will, hair slightly damp, wearing a very attractive dark suit.

“Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack. I didn’t even hear you drive up in this weather.”

A dog, Sonny thinks again. He really needs to think about getting a dog. “And you’re wearing a suit.”

“I was covering a story at city hall this morning.”

“You definitely look different. Good different.”

Will looks around ground zero, smiling, “Just doing a little housekeeping?”

Straightening up, Sonny points towards the strips and scraps of wallpaper, “They’re dead.”

“Looks like you were defending yourself to me. I’m sure you’ll be cleared of all charges.”

“They literally put wallpaper on top of more wallpaper. Who knew someone would be that dumb?”

Will looks at the walls, “Be glad the paint job wasn’t worse.”

“I know, I know. I’m gonna need a priest, shaman, witch, and everything else to exorcise whatever possessed the previous owners to decorate like this.”

“You’re doing laundry too? I can smell it.”

“Just some fabric softener. The 1 to 1 ratio of softener and hot water gets you a really good non toxic wallpaper remover.”

“Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“Internet. Don’t get it on your shoes. Those look really nice. Is there food in there?”

“You were more or less on my way home, from city hall, and I still have a few hours before I have to head back to the Spectator’s office. Picked up Chinese takeout.”

“You grabbed Chinese.” Sonny thinks he might have just fallen in love as Will stands in his steamy kitchen sauna, with its ugly walls and his reporter suit and awesome shoes, holding a bag of Chinese food.

“Just wanted to check on you. Helluva storm this morning. Tree branches everywhere. And I just wanted to see you.”

Honesty, Sonny decides, on both aspects. “Lani told me about her--and others--theorizing about us.”

“Not in San Francisco anymore.” Will starts, then cocks his head. “Is people theorizing an issue for you?”

“No, but I was worried it would be for you.”

“Why would it be?”

Sonny huffs out a breath. “Not so sure, really. I’m really rusty, Will, on how this whole thing’s supposed to be. Plus, I’m technically the new guy here, and you’re the beloved Horton boy coming back home.”

And, Will thinks, what they have so far, has mostly been nights, early evenings, and early mornings exclusively at Will’s house.

Which has an easy fix.

“What do you say to Saturday night?”

“Might have to check my ever so busy social calendar.”

“How about dinner at Doug’s?”

“I think I can squeeze you in.”

“But right now, how about broccoli beef and orange chicken?”

“That sounds really good. How about we go out on the front porch? Colder outside than in here. And way more pretty.”

“Sounds pretty perfect to me.”

“Let me wash up here---no no no, don’t touch me. I’m so gross.”

“I think I found a clean spit right...here.” Will continues moving, cupping Sonny’s face, kissing him.

The following night, though Sonny’s made his displeasure abundantly clear, Will insists on coming to Sonny’s place to help tackle the wallpaper issue.

“You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”

“You’re seriously doubting I can handle it? I actually have a scraper.” Will demonstrates by holding it up.

“Brand spanking new. But don’t get too cozy. Alright, c’mere. I’ll show you what we’re working with. And I’m gonna tell you here and now, if you bail, I don’t blame you in the slightest.”

“So not you’re not just doubting my skills, my tolerance, you’re doubting my...oh my God.” Will gapes at the bedroom walls. “What the hell is this?”

“The abomination straight from Hell. It’s what Nineveh looked like before they repented.”

“It…” Carefully, Will runs a hand down the paper, feeling the texture of it. “Almost. Not quite. How the hell can you stand to sleep in here?”

“When my eyes aren’t open.”

“Still. Maybe we need more help. Or just take a blowtorch to it and be done with it.”

“I was gonna say we do the bathroom first. Much smaller.”

Will follows him across the hallway, looking at the fishies, “Kind of cute to me.”

“Let’s see you say that when you have them staring at you while you’re in the shower.”

“Okay still bad, but not nearly as much as back there. No, let’s go for the full Monty--the bedroom. Let’s kill the hellspawn. Show me what I need to know.”

Half hour in, Will looks at the only partially stripped off wall--and the paint exposed. He looks over to see how Sonny’s progress is coming along. Better than his for sure, but he’s more experienced anyway.

“Call in some favors.” Will announces. “I’ll call T.”

“Will, I’m not just gonna ask him--”

“That’s why I am, not you. You got drinks and snacks?”

“Yeah.”

WIll takes his phone, so Sonny keeps the rest of his objections to himself. Especially when he looks at the walls, the rest of the room, estimating how long it would be before they’d finally destroy the nightmare of a room. 

“He said yes. So did Gabi, T’s girlfriend. Apparently she’s done this kind of thing before.” Will puts his phone away. “Still has the tools and everything.”

Sonny likes Gabi, who runs her own fashion line, and adds a kind of sophisticated touch to T’s manly macho persona.

“That’s so nice of both of them. Now I’m worried.”

“Why? They know you bought it as is.”

“Not about that. It’s just...what if, in this cramped house, T gets distracted by his girlfriend’s hotness and gets hurt?”

“Very funny.” Will grabs him, pulling Sonny in for a kiss.

As Will and Sonny strip off the wallpaper, with T and Gabi, Sami’s cleaning up the dishes for dinner.

Stefano was actually nice, complimenting her try at a casserole dish, and actually ate most of it besides the undercooked pasta and overcooked meat.

No wonder Sami adores him.

She feels like she’s adjusted better than most. When he first got his license back, he’d all but demanded she go with him everywhere. But eventually, he’d gained enough confidence to go it alone.

She knows how much he hates his job. Working where he does now, compared to what he had, all it really does is keep him on par with his parole, and now that he can drive himself, he has more independence.

She wasn’t a fan of her job either--part of her own parole. But now that Stefano’s officially back, and he’d begged her to quit, she realizes how much she’s missed it.

She has no one to talk to, and because Stefano has the car, all she can really do anymore is stay home by herself.

Her old life of partying, lunch with friends and family alike, now they’re just fond memories of what used to be.

Having to gauge Stefano’s mood, as well as the timing, Sami mixes a drink for them both. Dishes can wait. After all, what’s one more day, when she’ll be alone and can do them then anyway?

After carrying the drinks over to the living room, she sits next to him.

“Thank you.”

“Nice night. How about a walk?”

“Nosy neighbors.”

“You’re right. Stefano, I think we should buy another car.”

“Why?”

“For shopping and errands.”

“You already do that on my off days.”

“RIght, but now and then I think about something else in the afternoon, and I know how much you hate me asking you to grab it while you’re driving home.”

The lines around his face go deeper. “Why aren’t you more organized? It’s not that hard, Samantha. You don’t have a job as humiliating as mine, do you?”

“No, I don’t.” On instinct, she rubs a hand on her leg. “I hate it just as much as you. But it’s not forever. When everything’s over, we can go wherever we want, and start a real life. It’ll be like it never happened, Stefano. We’ll buy a beautiful house, go back to the country club. Travel, and--”

“Have you gone mad?”

“Stefano.”

“How do you expect to pay for all of that? Our lawyers took most of what we had.”

“I know. But we still have money, and the trust fund. We--”

Stefano splashes the drink in her face, leaving her without sight for a moment so she’s not ready for the slap across the face.

“Please don’t. You promised you wouldn’t hit me anymore. It’s not like before, Stefano, and I can’t--”

“Nothing’s like before.” He hits her again. “It’s your trust fund, you twat.”

He shoves her onto the floor, hitting her again when she tries to get up and away from him.

“You want a mansion, the club, and a car so you can forget all about me, a job that never even comes close to what I once was?”

When he pulls her up, shoving her against the wall, she tries to get away, bit all he does is yank her arm, the resulting pain hurting enough to make her legs give out.

“What are you doing? What the hell do you think you’re doing? Just sitting around thinking of something to whine about? You can’t even make a proper meal. Worthless cunt.”

“Stop it, stop it!”

“You want to buy a vehicle? You want to buy a car to drive off to god knows where with god knows who while I’m wasting away?”

“I’m not with anyone. I wouldn’t walk away from you.”

“Don’t lie to me.” The hit to the gut would’ve been the final blow to knock her down is he wasn’t holding her up. “You were cheating on my son even when it wasn’t to get the children!”

“I wasn’t with anyone else.”

He kicks her, hard, but there’s no real heat behind it. The rage had subsided with the kick itself.

He walks into the kitchen, looks at the disgusting dishes that haven’t been washed yet.

And mixes another drink.


	46. Chapter 46

Once today's interviews leave for the day, Will sits at his desk.

He’d had a really bad feeling about Nick Fallon and Melanie Jonas. The interview was weird enough as is, a story about a feud with a neighbor, and their fight over about 25 square feet of land.

Apparently Nick was named owner of it after a self conducted survey, but his story was full of holes.

But if Will’s being honest, it’s the clients themselves that have him more worried than the story.

The fact that Nick was an arrogant dick doesn’t bother Will too much. But Nick’s carelessness with the word faggot, when used in reference to their neighbors son, that absolutely does.

But what bothers Will even more than Nick’s blatant disregard for common decency is how his fiance spends almost the whole interview with her eyes down and not saying a word.

He knows them both--people who keep to themselves. Nick’s been getting himself into trouble for as long as Will’s known him as his cousin. Only now does Will realize that Nick doesn’t mind keeping it that way.

Standing up, Will circles the room, picking up his baseball, rubbing it with his finger as he keeps pacing.

He remembers Melanie’s adoptive brother, vaguely.

And wasn’t it just a little odd, when Will had asked about Holly, or asked Melanie anything, she’d looked at her fiance, like she was asking permission, before saying anything.

Not odd at all, Will corrects himself.

Giving them away.

Will sets the ball back down, walking out to the reception area.

“Nick and Melanie didn’t look too happy when they left.” Richard notes.

“Why would they, after I pointed out hot it would look for the knowledge of the survey being done himself--one disputed by three different official ones--would look to a judge if he decides to take it to court. On top of that, the neighbors I talked to for their side have been using the strip of land he’s trying to claim, maintaining it, and have even planted a hedge on it, for years now.

My slight suggestion that he might want to think about talking to a well respected surveyor just made me, in his eyes, some hotshot reporter that doesn’t know when to keep his trap shut.”

“Did you see the bumper sticker?” Zoe, a petite brunette speaks up from her desk. “Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt.”

“No, you’re fine, and no I didn’t. What’s wrong with it?”

“Let’s just say if you got caught saying it out loud, you’d be run out of town.”

“Great.” Will sits down. “What do you know about Melanie, Richard? I knew her adoptive brother some, but I don’t really know Melanie at all.”

“Not a lot. She’s younger than all their kids. Her dad’s a physician. We still go to him for all our checkups. Nice guy.”

“Right, I forgot. Mr. Jonas.”

“Mom’s on the shy side. Works at the same hospital. But Nick and Melanie, they’re more old fashioned than most of us open minded folk.”

“I definitely remember that.”

“Well I think he had a pretty messed up childhood. I’m struggling to remember what I know.” Richard adds. “But I think he did time as a kid in juvie. There’s rumors something happened to him while he was in there, but he reconnected with Melanie not too long ago.”

“Okay...”

“If you really wanna know more, ask Hope. I know she’s more acquainted with him than me. But I’m wondering why you’re so curious if you’re not gonna write a story about them.”

“She never so much as looked my way, not even to ask a question. I don’t think she even said a full sentence.”

“Probably not big on talking, just like her mom.”

“There was nothing shy about her. I still have time, right?”

“You’re free for a whole hour.”

“I gotta walk.”

He goes straight to the cops. Of course, in Salem, that translates to stopping every few minutes every time someone calls out, talking about the weather--hot and heavy--how’s his uncle Eric doing, how he likes living in his fancy house.

When he finally reaches the place, he finds a few cops, including his great grandpa, working at their desks, and the dispatcher.

More talking, thankfully shorter conversations.

“I actually need a few minutes with Hope. Is the commissioner in her office?”

“Yep, she’s here.” Roman tells him. “Go right in.”

He finds Hope at her desk, pissed off at her computer screen, which clears up when she sees who walked in,

“Oh good, a distraction. Budget’s kicking my ass. Come in.”

The office works for her--small, but decorated in photos. It’s got a few squeaky chairs, a bulletin board, white board--both covered in everything--coffee maker, and stacks of files in front of her.

Though rarely ever is Hope’s door shut, Will chooses now to do just that.

Curiosity seeps into Hope’s eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“I have no idea. I just turned away a story. Nick Fallon.”

“Oh.” Nodding, Hope gestures a hand to a chair, leaning back in her own. “Neighborly feud. Doesn’t matter how many legs he doesn’t have to stand on, or what law says he’s wrong, he’s not gonna stop till he gets what he wants. I’m guessing he’s planning on suing his next door neighbor.”

“All based on a survey he did himself. He didn’t like too much being told it wasn’t gonna go as he hopes.”

“What, you think he’s going to hit you?”

“Is he?”

Hope huffs out a breath. “I honestly don’t think so. You’re still pretty young, and he’s a mess. We actually responded to a call a few years ago. The guy he’s feuding with, his wife called 911 when Nick started fighting with him about the line, tried destroying the hedge. But then again, his neighbor’s older than me, and not particularly strong, either. It’s all right inside my jurisdiction. The rest of Nick’s family is part of Salem’s community, and I’m grateful for that.”

“Richard said you’ve seen him in here a few times.”

“Drinking and driving, petty crimes. Pushing and shoving.”

“Did you ever haul him in for something not related to the property issue?”

Once again, Hope’s curiosity is piqued. “Like?”

“He brought his fiance--Melanie--with him for the interview. I know the signs, Hope, the behaviors, the slight hints. I know when someone’s getting beat up or doing the beating.”

Now Hope sighs. “There’s never been one domestic violence call. I wanna say besides this stupid border thing, the houses aren’t even that close together. And Nick’s family’s all around where Nick’s house is.”

Will nods, “So she’s always got eyes on her.”

“That’s one way to put it. I know about a month after announcing their engagement, Melanie fell, even miscarried. They all said she got dizzy, tripped and fell down a whole flight of stairs. Her mom showed up swears Nick was responsible, but Melanie kept repeating her story, and there was no reason to believe that’s not what happened.”

“But you don’t buy it either.”

“I know all the signs too. But she never went against what she said. I pushed it as far as I could, even gave her Allie’s card.”

“Okay. I just wanted to see if my gut was right on this one. Thanks, Hope.”

“Nothing for you to do.” Hope says as Will gets up. “No way for the law to intervene unless she comes forward and says otherwise, or shows up asking for help.”

“I know. I really hope she does, because I know you can and will when she does.”

Maybe, Will thinks as he walks back to the Spectator, she needs to hear it from someone who knows what she’s going through, knows how terrifying it is.

He keeps it quiet, but after three days, Will drives it over to the famous property line. He takes a quick look, then drives up to the Fallon property.

He already knows, because he’d asked, the family had paid for the house to be built for them.

He can see the windows shining, and someone tried to decorate it with some flowers. He can see a veggie garden in the back--as well as Melanie tending to the weeds.

When Will goes to the back, he knows, he just knows, by the jolt of surprise and alarm on her face, his gut instinct about her life was spot on.

“Melanie.” Will flashes a friendly smile, staying a fair distance away. She wears a dress with the sleeves rolled up, right under the elbows.

She has to be boiling out here.

And though he already knows what she’s going to say, has already had his suspicions confirmed, he asks, “Is Nick here?”

“Working. Working over at Mad World with your grandma Kate. Gonna have to come back later if you wanna talk to him.”

“No, that’s fine. Just thought I’d check the property line, maybe recommend a surveyor, so I can be as accurate as possible in the article.”

“He doesn’t need one. He did it himself. I need to get back to work.”

“Those are some incredible tomatoes. Really pretty land here.”

It’s not, at all, but even Will can see how she tries to fix that. “That strip of and doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?”

She keeps her eyes away, won’t look at him. She grips her tools like a lifeline. “Nick just wants what he’s entitled to.”

“I’m positive he already does. Melanie, I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there.”

Her eyes do go up here, then go back down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have to get back to work.”

“Yes you do. Your adopted brother was only a few years younger than me. He knew. I was scared out of my mind too. So scared to tell anyone. Scared he would end me if I tried, or everyone would be too scared of him to believe me. We can help.”

“You should go. Nick’s not big on uninvited visitors when he’s not here.”

“So he can cut you off from the outside world. Under his roof, with all his family backing him up and yours further away. You can trust police commissioner Brady, me, and my sister Allie. All you have to do is ask, and we’ll help you. You’ll never have to worry about him ever again.”

“My fiance would never hurt me. Just go.”

“If you ever need help, just call.” He takes a card out, laying it on the garden box. “All you have to do is call.”

Almost positive that card will go unused, Will leaves her where she is, following the line back, then cuts over to the Turnbaum’s house.


	47. Chapter 47

The contrast between the Turnbaums’ and Nick’s place is like night and day. They might’ve started out the same size, but clearly Nick just kept putting in windows, a bigger porch.

And now that Will knows the signs, he can see the Turnbaums have done some really impressive landscaping.

Like Melanie, both the Turnbaums are in the backyard. The woman, in shoes and a garden hat, stands up, hand on her lower back.

“Check it out, Hal. It’s Will Horton. Come on over. You probably don’t remember me, but I taught over at the high school. I had your sister Allie, but not you.”

“Nice to see you.” Will shakes both their hands. “Garden and a half, huh?”

“Always more than we can handle.” Hal shakes his head. “We even sell our stuff in the square, but we still wind up giving it all away.”

“Let’s take a breath.” Mary Beth decides. “Let’s sit on the porch, have some ice tea?”

“I won’t say no to that.”

Will follows them back, taking a seat with Hal while Mary Beth goes inside.

“Journalist, huh?”

“That’s right.”

Hal wipes his face. “Did Mr. Fallon ask you to cover the story?”

“Tried. There’s no story, or even a case. I told him that exact thing. And something tells me, all things considered, your lawyer said the same thing.”

“He did. And that if he doesn’t drop this, we can always sue him for harassment. I’d rather not do that if possible.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” Will stands up to grab the tray of ice tea from Mary Beth.

“Word on the street is you’re smart enough to know not to stir up drama caused by a bully.” she says, pouring the tea.

“That’s right, I do. But that’s actually not why I’m here. Just an excuse, actually. I was hoping to ask, and I know this is none of my business, but I have to know if either one of you know about any problems going on next door. Between Nick and Melanie.”

Will makes quick note of the look they share. “We try to stay as far away from them as much as we can.” Hal starts. “They’re not exactly friendly people.”

“She’s not going to say anything.” Mary Beth continues. “She was in one of my classes for two years. So smart and friendly. Shy, but not weak. Brought them cookies when they moved over here. She was polite as ever, but didn’t invite me in. Even said she didn’t remember me, but I knew she was lying. I tried again when she lost her son. He wouldn’t let me come in, but he took the casserole I made. Never gave the dish back.”

“Mary Beth, it wasn’t even your best.”

“Matter of principle, Hal. Police Commissioner Brady asked us the same thing you are. We had to tell her the same thing we’re gonna tell you now. We never saw or heard anything to suggest he’s hitting her. But I’ve happened to look out the window, seeing her doing laundry, crying.”

“She’s not the same girl I knew when she was a teenager. She’s not that girl anymore. Breaking her mom’s heart for sure. Her mom, the sweetest woman I’ve ever known, isn’t allowed over there. Neither is her half sister. Not since she miscarried, and not even before that.”

“Nick and Melanie are hard.” Hal adds. “We keep away, never had any problems with them until he shelled out an arm and a leg to have that house built. I’m tempted to just let him have the land, but Mary Beth won’t let me.”

“That’s right, I won’t. You reward a child throwing a tantrum, he’ll start thinking he can do it with everything.”

“Absolutely.” Will agrees.

He lets it all marinade for some time after, then actually winds up telling Sonny, who listens over a beer on the back porch.

“I’ve actually met Melanie’s adopted brother. Chelsea introduced me over at the Flower Palace. Someone was in there for a basket for Mother’s Day, and Max just happened to ask how Melanie was doing. Apparently she used to work for the flower palace during the busy seasons.”

“Interesting. I never knew.”

“They said they don’t see her much. I got the weirdest impression they would’ve said more if I wasn’t there, so I went off on my own. They kept talking, and it really sounds like classic forced isolation.”

Shifting, Sonny looks right at Will. “So this is what you’ve been thinking about? I just thought it was this exclusive story you couldn’t talk about, but it’s not that at all. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Not even a story, so there’s no confidentiality contract, but...” Will gestures vaguely in the air, and Sonny points.

“1, 2, 3, not it.”

“Not, period.”

“Some of it is really close to what happened to me. The forced isolation, for example. What, were you worried it would trigger me to talk about someone beating up their spouse? Furthermore, you’re right, he’s hitting her. If not physical, definitely emotional.”

“I had reason to be worried, this is true. It’s always right under the surface. And the memories, all the feelings so easily triggered. Last thing I’d ever want to do is trigger yours.”

“Clearly your first instinct is to protect. It’s just in your nature. I hate being protected. I don’t have a choice. Survivor’s instinct. But when it comes to actual abuse and triggers, I’m okay. My experience was ridiculously short lived, and I came out on top.”

“Can’t apologize for being me.”

“Neither can I. But if we’re gonna be together...” Cocking his head, Sonny gives a really long look. “Are we?”

“Checks off all the boxes.”

“The boxes.” Sonny smiles, sips his drink. “Well when you put it like that, this is the kind of heavy baggage we should be able to talk about freely. Now, you wanna hear my perspective on this?”

“Please.”

“From what you told me, it sounds like Nick was really messed up from his time in prison, and had to act a certain way to survive. Never even saw a woman guard, so he never really respected them. So when he got out, he latched onto her like a lifeline. She got pregnant--most likely why they got engaged. Now she’s not anymore. Whether or not that was because of him--and I’d bet money it was--she didn’t live up to the fantasy in his head. She’s completely isolated from her family, and surrounding her with his.”

“She can always leave him.” Will points out. “Her family’s right here in town. As is the law. I know it’s not that easy, but--”

“It absolutely is not. Yes, she’s an adult--you couldn’t be. Yes, she has family and support if she wants it. But--”

Sonny sighs.

“After Leo, part of my therapy was group. My God, Will, you have no idea what kind of stories I heard in there. Women AND men who refused to leave. For years. People who left, went back, left and back again.”

“Vicious cycle.” Will says. “That’s the technical term.”

“But it wasn’t because they were masochists, or because they couldn’t fight back. It’s because by that point, they were so worn down emotionally, in spirit and in mind. Because they couldn’t get out of that revolving door. Had a parent beat the crap out of them, then it turned into a spouse. Or because they chose to believe it would be different, because the spouse had said so, or they made themselves believe it. Or they deserve it if it does happen. And for a few, because they had no one else.”

“I know. Believe me, I loved slandering the names of those bastards in the papers whenever I got the chance. Just like knowing I can’t help Melanie Jonas, Hope can’t help, not her family, until she crosses that bridge and asks for it.”

“And you want to.” Sonny concludes. “Need to, even. And you’re ready to spit fire because you can’t.”

“Absolutely. And because of that, let’s just stow it. Stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. Let’s call Allie, have her bring Kyle and Jughead. So we can all hang out.”

Sonny looks at Will curiously. “And what exactly do you plan to feed them? I highly doubt they’ve eaten yet.”

“...how’s pizza?”

Sonny shakes his head. “You have a gorgeous grill right over there. And if you hold off until tomorrow, just ask the whole family, and use it--after buying meat. And the back wall’s gonna be finished and planted by then.”

“Not so spontaneous then.”

“Not exactly. But...” Sonny stands, minding the table, getting in Will’s lap. “Whaddaya say we do a different kind of spontaneous?”

“We could do that.” WIll watches, slightly stunned, when Sonny takes off his shirt. “Right here? But it’s--”

“So beautiful outside, I know.” Sonny finishes, and takes Will’s mouth in his own.

It’s not like he hit her that hard, and she deserved it anyway. More even. She wasn’t even fully unconscious when her head hit the floor--with a this that was so satisfying to hear.

He didn’t feel like wasting another hit. She wasn’t worth it.

It amazes him how much he’d used to care about her, how perfect a daughter-in-law she was for him, in all the right ways. He’d even forgiven her for the betrayal, accepted her sobbing apology, all her pathetic excuses for being weak, scared, letting the cops manipulate her, and her family.

But now, where they’re stuck in this ugly piece of crap house, coming home from his humiliating job to find her putting together the equivalent of gruel for a meal together, every single night?

There’s not one day, one hour, one minute, where she doesn’t remind him of everything he lost. It was all her fault, after all. If she’d just gotten a handle on that stupid kid upstairs, he could’ve easily dealt with the bastard son she’d given him.

Then she’d gone and turned on him, told the cops the truth to get a better deal for herself.

He was in there for ten years because of how she’d folded like a paper fan.

High time he finally starts punishing her for what she’d cost him. High time she starts letting herself be punished.

If she’d just followed orders, he’d still be the CEO from DiMera Enterprises. Still be someone important. Still have the life he deserves, not waking up in the middle of the night sweating from dreams of being back in prison.

Yes, this is all her fault, and no way is he going to forget that now. Her and the kids she never should’ve cheated on her husband to have were at fault. She’d cut off ten years of his life, and now she has the nerve to whine about, once again, getting a car, working, moving.

That pathetic look she shoots at him when she’d finally woken up.

She still does the dishes--he hadn’t had to waste his breath reminding her of that--while he’d watched TV, because what else is he supposed to do with all the nights in this house they’d had to rent, like bums?

He didn’t notice her slurring--it’s not like he was actually listening. Then she’d addressed him directly, asking him something, before collapsing, and promptly started seizing.

He’d just sat there watching for a moment or two, intrigued more than concerned before going to where she falls, to deal with it.

But he already knows, no need for an official diagnosis, as he watches her die.

Her brain’s bleeding. A blow to the head is really hard to pull off, with all the veins. As she dies looking right at him, all he does is stroke her hair, even sheds a few tears.

Then the reality fully sinks in. Walking out of prison wasn’t the liberation he was hoping for. This is.

He has money stashed. He’d told her to keep withdrawing money week after week, during all the years he’d been locked up. Gut instinct, he decides, told him this day would come.

He can always get more, he’s going to need it, because cards leave a trail. He’ll need a few days--he still has to report to his probation officer, then to his job the next day. He has the two days after that off.

He can--since he’s never used them--use his sick day the two days after _that_. He highly doubts his supervisor is going to report him immediately, so he’ll have a full week’s worth of a head start.

He’s got a car, and knows to stick to back roads, always going the speed limit, cash only. As he makes a list, along with his resolve running through his head, he realizes this had been his plan the whole time.

Not only does he know what he’s going to do, he knows exactly how he’s going to do it.

He’d spent so many years in power, and they’d all stolen that from him. Isn’t it justice now, for him to take their power for himself?

“You saved me, Samantha” Stefano strokes her hair, her face. “Cheer me on.”

Standing up, he goes to the bedroom, takes a blanket and a pillow, arranging them in the guest room. He carries her in, laying her carefully on the floor, then covers her with a sheet.

It’s not like he’s an asshole.


	48. Chapter 48

Sonny’s consulting with a woman at her very pretty riverside house. Taking note of the pier, boat, the steps leading to both of them, Sonny’s already drawing up ideas in his head.

“Let me guess. When you’re not on the water, you’re just looking out at it.” Sonny guesses.

“Survey says yes.” Julie Olson, a fairly cheerful person in her old age, smiles. “Bob and I love it here. Our kids are all grown up now, but whenever they come home, they’re doing the same thing. You ever sail at all?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure. Very busy season.”

“So I’ve noticed. I really hope you can help us out, despite how much busier it’s gonna make you. As you can see,” Julie gestures towards the slope. “We can’t keep mowing there. Bob tells me to just leave it alone, then he actually fell last time he pulled the mower, and I’d had enough. He didn’t get hurt, but it could’ve been so much worse. He finally gave up and said to call the nice young man that worked on Eric’s place.”

“Thank God for that, because you’re absolutely right, it could’ve been worse. You mentioned something about ground covers.”

“So we don’t have to keep mowing, but isn’t an eyesore, doesn’t grow too big.”

“I have a few recommendations, but--”

“Oh no!” Now Julie’s laughing. “Eric warned me about the ‘but’.”

“He knows me too well.”

“I’m still listening.”

“I like thinking of it in terms of what I would do if it was my place. And the first thing is the steps, replace them with stone. Make them bigger by a whole foot.”

“I’ve been all over Bob about one day someone’s going to fall right through them and get hurt. Keep talking.”

“As far as the slope goes, I’d add a few raised beds as a continuation of the patio, to match the stone steps. The terraces would be curved to match the river’s curve, low shrubs and perennials. I’d do river rock on the base.”

“I got a peek at the wall you built at Will’s, and it’s beautiful. But the structure tells me it wouldn’t work for this house.”

Here we go, Sonny thinks, a woman who knows what does and doesn’t work.

Perfect.

“You’re right. You want something more pleasing to the eye, but more homey--like your patio. I’d want the same thing.”

“I haven’t been able to plant anything on that slope.”

“The garden setup is incredible, as well as your planters. Did you do this yourself?”

“I did, and I love gardening. I want plants out here. Curved,” she murmurs. “Wouldn’t that be so adorable?”

“Yes it would--from your house, patio, even the water. I could show you an idea for you to show your husband.”

“I’ll let you do that. We’ll need numbers.”

“I can do that. Let me take a few measurements.”

“Eric told me you’d have some ideas.”

He has millions, and gives more of them to another potential client in her mansion.

Sonny walks to the backyard facing the river--yard’s huge--with the sweet Kayla. “Your house, view, and gardens are so incredible. What’re you calling me for?”

“I want to make sure my gardens stay that way. I can’t take credit. We just moved in this past winter, but Steve and I did our best on the upkeep. Thing is we’re both full-time workers, with an active little girl--who’s with her aunt--and a second one on the way.”

“Congrats.”

“Thank you. We’re so excited. Problem is we need someone to do work in the fall, cleanup in the spring, and for a little bit at least, help with what we already have here. The previous owners did such a good job, but she was retired and loved gardening. Apparently the ones before them were groundskeepers.”

“Which is what you’re looking for now.”

“Pretty much. But both Steve and I want to do it too. It’s so satisfying--and it’s our yard. We just need more know-how than we already do. We figure we can just shadow you until we pick it up.”

“Exactly what I was hoping to hear. If your endgame is to have something beautiful and have it be someone else’s problem? Not a problem. But to me, I say taking the responsibility yourself is so much better.”

“You’re both busy.” Sonny adds. “Which is where we come in. I can put you on the clock twice a month, and we’ll just be at the mercy of the weather in the spring and fall.”

“Perfect.”

“How exactly did you know about us?”

“Allie Regis. She and I work through the same hospital. I’m an ER doctor. And, believe it or not, Allie used to live here.”

“She...oh...” It’s where Will grew up. Sonny turns to look at the house again: all the glass and wood making it seem so inviting. But it wasn’t. The grounds, blooming with flowers, make it seem so perfect.

And it was all a lie.

How would Will take knowing Sonny was talking to a client here?

“You’ve met Allie, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I have. I know the rest of the family too. How about I give you a list, and if you decide to do it, I’ll write up a contract.”

“Good, good. Since I got you here, there’s a few plants here that I can’t seem to identify. Tried plant books, google. Maybe you’ll know?”

“Okay.”

Sonny walks around with Kayla, identifying the plants in question as Kayla looks at the prices.

Sonny’s positive Will had walked around here as a kid, playing baseball. Had he ever wandered around out here to look out at the river?

Dreaming of getting himself out of the undertow that made up this house.

“It’s exactly what we’re needing.”

“Scuse me?” Sonny brings himself back to reality. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I said this is exactly what we’re needing. Email me the contract, so Steve and I can look it over tonight.”

Once the terms are set, Sonny walks back to his truck, torn between the excitement of signing a twice a month contract, and worrying over what Will would say.

He might’ve missed the BMW across the street--luxury cars are everywhere over here--but the engine turns over right as he gets to the truck. Sonny gets a vague impression of a man in sunglasses behind the wheel, before the car pulls away and drives off.

Briefly, Sonny notes that he never saw the guy walk over to the car, or open the door, but he waves it off. Still not listening, Sonny thinks.

He’s got a few more stops before meeting up with his crew.

They’re finally able to squeeze in a full day between all the guests in the next to last riverside cabin.

But first and foremost is the plant nursery, and since Chelsea from the Flower Palace had already talked to Julie Olson, Sonny wants to talk about plans for the terraces, and plants.

The stop took longer than the allotted 10 minutes he’s planned, finally clocking out at 30, but he still gets everything he needs. He goes to the hardware store next, which means another conversation. It’s Salem, anyway, so he’ll just have to learn.

He’d planned to go straight to the riverside cabin, but when he sees Eric’s outside, Sonny pulls in. To check on the rock garden, he takes the winding path, nodding in approval before making his way to the front door.

Inside, Eric’s got his phone between his ear and shoulder while typing away. “I’ll be happy to do that, and I have you completely booked, party of 5, tomorrow at 7. Yep. They’ll take good care of you. You’re welcome. Bye.”

After putting the phone down, Eric rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck.

“Why not buy a headset?”

“I keep forgetting to.”

“What the hell happened to your hair?”

Biting his lip, Eric lifts a hand to his now choppy hair. “That bad, huh?”

“It’s awesome. Honestly. It looks good and easy and...” Sonny trails off, before segueing, “Who did it anyway? I’ve been doing mine myself because, well, it’s hard to trust someone with anything, much less your hair. But whoever did yours, I’ll give them a go.”

“Hourglass Salon.”

“Do they do foot massages too? That’s my own doing too. The job’s murder on your feet.”

“They absolutely do.”

“I’ll try it. And clearly I’m keeping you from something.”

“No, you’re not. If anything, you came right on time, because I’m taking a break. Come sit on our awesome new patio.”

“In five minutes.”

“Same amount of time I have. Enough for a drink and a breath.”

Back in the kitchen, Eric pours lemonade, ice clinking in the glass. “I was going to see cabin number 9, to tell you the guests reserved for tomorrow asked to check in at noon. Any way you can finish before that?”

“I’ll see to it.”

“You’re really something, Sonny.”

After bringing the lemonade out, Eric sits at the small table with its sunbrella.

“Part of the five minutes I want to use to repeat what I said at Will’s. I love what you did, and you were so unbelievably right. I look out the window and smile all the time. Plus, bookings have gone up significantly.”

Sighing, Eric looks around them, “I had to get me and this whole place out of this rut. You dragged us out by the feet.”

“And I want to tell you again how much I appreciate all the referrals. I got two new clients.”  
“Congratulations.”

“One of them’s the couple currently living in the old DiMera mansion.”

Eric pauses at that, then nods. “I understand. You’re worried it’ll be a problem for Will, Allie, and all of us.”

“Pretty much. I don’t think Allie’s gonna be a problem, since she’s the one that referred me. The client’s Kayla Brady. She’s an ER doctor over at the Salem University hospital.”

“Good for Allie.”

“I'm sure it must have been hard for her to reconnect with family that chose to live in the house where all that trauma happened.”

“Allie’s strong. Will is too.”

“Don’t I know it, but--”

“It’s just a house, Sonny. It’s not the house that hurt them. You really want my advice?”

“That’s why I came here.”

“Tell Will, get it off your chest.”

“I will. But I wanted to talk to you too.”

“It’s just a house.” Eric pats Sonny’s shoulder. “I think about Sami living there all the time. In those small moments when you can’t sleep, and your brain won’t leave you alone as it makes you beat yourself up.”

“I know that all too well.”

“I can always beat myself up over not making more of an effort to be in her life. But really, would it really have changed anything? I think of her now, wondering if I should’ve tried to reach out. Our parents weren’t de-aging, and we’ve had no contact in 12 years. Should we have? I never know for sure if any of it made a difference.”

“But I do know Will and Allie deserve my unconditional love and support. So I don’t.”

Eric shrugs. “I like seeing my nephew happy. I like how you make him happy.”

“I think we’re both exactly where we’re supposed to be. We’re both ready to let ourselves be happy again. And if that’s with someone else, just another bonus. Now I’m gonna go finish up that riverside cabin.”

“I’ll come take a look the first chance I get.”

“Take a seat.” Sonny says the second Eric stands up. “Finish the lemonade, stop to smell the flowers.”

“Fine, five more minutes.” Eric smiles as he takes a drink. “Don’t worry, be happy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else.”


	49. Chapter 49

Will has no idea what he got himself into when Sonny texted his plans to cook him dinner. Especially with the emphasis on the cook.

But, Will figures if it sucks, they have frozen food and canned goods to tide them over.

When he walks in after a really good day, Sonny’s in the kitchen chopping up stuff Will assumes is supposed to be a salad. And whatever’s in the oven smells delicious.

A bottle of wine stands on the counter, uncorked with two glasses.

“Now this is what I’m talking about. My guy making a home cooked meal.” Will exaggerates, with a small slap on the ass to emphasize.

When Sonny just rolls his eyes and laughs, Will leans in to kiss the tattoo on his collarbone. “Special occasion?”

“Besides it’s a Wednesday? The next to last riverside cabin’s just finished, and now we’re starting work on the water feature. I even got two more clients signed.”

“Awesome. Sounds like I should be the one making you the meal.”

“You can do it next time. But you can always pour the wine.”

Will really loves coming home, finding Sonny already here. Maybe he’s got some reservations over just how much he loves it, but one look at Sonny, and they all vanish.

Will supposes he could have reservations over how easily those reservations vanished, but that would just make him unnecessarily paranoid.

“So what’s on the menu?”

“A very healthy salad, which has beebalm from your own garden.”

“I have beebalm? What exactly is that?”

Sonny points to the spiky flowers on the counter.

“Flowers?” That’s got him confused. “We’re eating flowers in a salad?”

“They’re not just there to sit and look pretty. They’re delicious--flower and leaf. The petals are typically used in a garnish.”

“Fine, you’re taking the first bite.”

“Chicken.” Sonny picks up a petal, popping it in his mouth. “Delish.”

“Sure. What else is on the menu besides flowers?”

“My to die for mac and cheese--from scratch, not a box.”

“Nuh uh. How?”

“I asked the same thing when Lani and Chad started fighting about who’s family made the best recipe. I made the same note about it also coming straight from the box, and got the same exact response. The exact same. Anywho,”

Sonny picks up his wine to take a sip, gesturing, “After that, I was inspired. I chose Lani’s because she called up her mom right that second, giving me the recipe--saying even a caveman could do it. I am apparently a caveman.”

Sonny gestures again, taking another sip. “And let me just state for the record here and now, it was not caveman level easy. Your first thought is, it’s mac and cheese, how hard can it possibly be? I don’t even want to talk about it.”

The timer goes off then. “Let’s see how I did.”

Sonny walks over to open the oven door.

“It smells amazing.” Will says from behind Sonny. “It looks even better.”

“It does. It absolutely does.” Sonny slides on oven mitts, taking it out to set it down, where they both look at it.

Sonny then pulls out his phone.

“You’re seriously taking a picture of it?”

“Don’t act all high and mighty, Horton.” Sonny picks it up again, taking it outside. “Grab the salad, and the wine too. We can work on the salad while it cools off.” Sonny tells him. “And I’ll commit death by wine suicide if it sucks.”

There’s flowers on the table again, different ones in a jar he had to have brought over here at some point. Will just looks at Sonny while Sonny serves up the salad, the shirt spiky bitter chocolate--WIll had decided to stick with bitter chocolate--hair, bottomless dark eyes, those striking cheekbones.

“This is something I could get used to.” Will decides. “Coming home to the hottest guy in Salem, beautiful table, even a home cooked meal.”

“Don’t you go getting used to the hot meal. I swear, making a boxed meal from scratch is harder than digging a hole in hard ground with a pickaxe. Only reason I can claim that is because I did both just today.”

“Jack of all trades. The salad’s tasty. Even, weirdly enough, the flowers. So you said you have new clients?”

“Yeah. Julie Olson and Bob Anderson.”

“Oh yeah? They’re good family. Hope is Julie’s sister, really big on living near the river.”

“True, true. I’m gonna give them riverside appeal--as opposed to curb appeal, because, hello, river. And I was promised--or blackmailed into--a day out on the river on them.”

“Not a boats person?”

“I like them just fine. I was out on one with a working engine, even went kayaking on my world travels. But not a sailboat. Love watching them out on the water, the way they just glide across the river. Like a pianist. I’m guessing you know how?”

“Yep. Grew up near the river. Haven’t been in years though. Possible trigger.” Which never occurred to Will until just now. “I think that’s another test. I can always rent a boat, take you with.”

“Sounds like I should try one at some point, because again, river. You ready to brave the main course?”

“Very.”

“Alright, let’s do it.” With a level of caution, Sonny serves the mac and cheese. Watching Will, Sonny takes his own bite. “On three. One, two...”

Will takes his bite, angling his head, then holds up a finger, grabbing another. “It’s fucking delicious.”

Clearly surprised, Sonny looks at his own bite. “It’s delicious. Who knew?”

“Little kick, too.”

“Tabasco sauce. Still harder than digging holes, but still satisfying.” Sonny smiles. “So what would you have done if it did crash and burn?”

“Something brutal yet sympathetic, ending on a, ‘hey, at least you tried.’ Because I don’t believe you wouldn’t know if it sucked, and me trying to spare your feelings would be demeaning.”

“I’ll take it. I gotta tell you about my other clients.”

“Shoot.”

“Moved from the square to another part of Salem this past winter, into the DiMera mansion. The one you grew up in.”

Will doesn’t say anything for a moment, then stops eating, topping off both their glasses. “Okay...”

“It’s your aunt Kayla. They both work at the Salem University Hospital. Kayla Brady. She’s a doctor, he’s a PI with your grandma’s husband John. They have a kid on the way this fall. Just wanted to paint the picture here.”

“I’m still listening.”

“I swear I didn’t know, until Kayla told me about Allie living in there, that it was that house. They just need help with the grounds, a few times a month, for the seasons. They want to learn how to do it themselves. They...you’re obviously not bothered by that.”

“Not particularly. You made mac and cheese.”

“Because of an argument between Chad and Lani.” Sonny reminds Will. “What could be better? I had to let you know, regardless of what bad memories it stirred up.”

“So food’s a tranquilizer?”

Sonny knows that tone immediately, the irritation. “I’m not trying to patronize you, Will. I just wanted to make up for the bombshell I dropped on you. And all I wound up doing was pissing you off.”

“No, the pissed off attitude, Sonny, is you feeling like you had to tiptoe around me before telling me about getting a client that just happens to live in the DiMera mansion.”

Sonny feels his spine literally go stiff, his anger simmering towards boiling. “I wasn’t trying to bruise your macho ego. The tiptoeing was just as much for me as you. Maybe even more. I felt bad, regardless of what’s right or wrong, about making a profit somewhere that hurt you.”

“It doesn’t, and my ego is bruised. I never would’ve come back to Salem if I honestly thought I couldn’t handle it, and all of me is well aware someone else lives in that godforsaken place. And if she and Steve come to me for a journalistic problem, I could handle that too. How could I not?”

Sonny takes a moment to compose himself, then says two choice words, “Melanie Jonas.”

Will starts to speak up, feels the air let right out of whatever he was gonna say next, “You already pointed out how dumb I was about that, so really that’s on you for doing the same thing here.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me, and you got a free meal out of it. I don’t care about arguing with you, but if you want dumb, stop and consider we’re fighing because someone actually cared enough about your feelings to tell you about a potential problem.”

“This isn’t a fight.” At Sonny’s long stare, Will lets out a breath. “We’re just arguing, and we apparently just settled it.”

Sonny smirks. “Lawyer’s tactic.”

“Guilty as charged. Look, I spent so many years hating that house. I even drew it once--and I can’t draw to save my life--in one of my journals. Surrounded by the circles of hell.”

“You read Dante, huh?”

“There’s nothing I wasn’t reading. Best escape I had. Got over hating the place, for the most part. You having a client there doesn’t bother me. Shouldn’t bother you either.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“See that? Problem solved. I’m gonna have a little more.” Will piles on more mac and cheese. “How about you?”

“Divide that in half.”

“What would you say to leaving some of your things here instead of stashing them in a duffle bag?”

That completely takes Sonny by surprise, throwing him completely off kilter. Just a second ago they were “arguing”, and now they’re apparently talking about Will putting aside closet space for him.

“Uh...”

“I could do the same thing at your place too.” Will adds quickly. “On days when I buy some takeout after work, help you out with painting.”

“And here I was thinking that first time was just gonna be easy sex.”

“Still is. Just not the only thing.”

No, Sonny thinks. It’s not. Will already trusted him with a key and security code. Just for convenience, and leaving clothes would be part of the same vein, wouldn’t it? So convenient.

Why overreact?

“Who’s supposed to do the laundry?” Sonny demands.

“...well, I’d just say you do it at your place, and me at mine. Problem is you’re here more than me, so that’s not entirely fair. How about we just take turns?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll bring stuff to leave here tomorrow. Jesus.” Sonny pushes the plate away. “Delicious or not, I can’t eat another bite.”

“So what do you say to letting us put these dishes away, then walking it off? Let’s just take a walk so you can list off the names all the blooms out there, even if I never remember them anyway.”

“You will sooner or later.”

Will smiles, finishing his own plate. “Aw, you’re so cute, thinking that will ever actually happen, Sonny-boy.”

Sipping his wine, Sonny thinks it over. They’d just had their first fight, kind of, and had it resolved all in the same conversation. And they just agreed to leave stuff at each other’s places.

And he’d just called him _Sonny-boy_ , a name he can’t even remember the last time someone called him.

Yep, there’s no doubt about it. Nope. None.

They’ve officially reached the next stage, whatever that means or whatever might be in store, of their relationship.


	50. Chapter 50

Stefano pays cash for his motel rooms on his carefully planned out trip from Crest Hill to Salem. He uses the WiFi and Sami’s tablet to look for information about Eric, Detective Hope Brady, and his own--clearly incompetent--defense attorney, prosecutor, as well as the judge that had presided over his whole case.

Every single one of them, had something to do with his downfall, in turning his name into an embarrassment. He’s going to give it right back, to every single one.

Unfortunately, the judge had already died while he was in prison. So now Stefano has to sleep with the satisfaction of knowing he’s burning in hell.

His defense attorney had retired and took off out of town. The prosecutor, still practicing and still in Chicago.

So, a lead.

He knows, because Sami had told him on a visit, that her no good brother had gone and married a dirty cop. He now knows that cop is now the police commissioner in Salem, and they have a kid together, on top of raising hers.

So many ways to torture them. As he sits in his motel room, TV on to alert him if and when he sees his own face flash, he pictures every single one.

He imagines setting that damned mansion on fire, with all of them trapped inside, would do just fine.

He thinks about Kaye Stevens, that bitch of a neighbor. Oh, she definitely had a huge part in it. You got stake, Stefano thinks, now you’re gonna pay for it. In careful lettering, he adds Kaye Stevens to the list in the journal he’d bought in a convenience store.

Just a terrible accident. Have someone cut the breaks in her car. He can look someone up to do it for him--you can hire anyone for anything nowadays.

Then, of course, most important of all, are the bastard children who’d dared betray him. The man that let them stay in his mansion, fed and clothed them.

The man who’d taken them in. The man who’s going to take them out, by whatever means necessary.

He looks over the list of names, over and over. Obsessively writes down any and all information he remembers or can find out about all of them.

He writes down every thing they’ve ever done to piss him off, and that fills page after page.

Before falling asleep, he pushes himself to do push ups, crunches, rotating to squatting and lunging. Every morning he does this, using the long list of things that pissed him off to drive him.

When he sleeps, he dreams of himself in a boardroom, wowing everyone in a way that only Jesus could come close to matching. Like Jesus, he’d forgive those who’d betray them only in death.

When he wakes up, he shaves. He’d kept it up for days, feeling the nakedness that would serve to disguise his otherwise unmistakable face.

He combs stuff into his hair to cover up the white, and would keep doing so as it grows.

Along with the notebook, he’d bought sunglasses, cheap shoes, jeans and t-shirts.

He’d picked up a few things in prison--blending in and not calling attention was most important. Just like switching license plates--now twice--on his car is also most important.

Driving into Salem has him vibrating with anxiety as well as excitement.

It’s different. A stop sign where there never used to be one. Different stores and eateries. It’s infuriating and disorienting.

He has to pull himself over to calm down, to breath through what he knows--he’d been forced to go to therapy in fucking prison after all--a panic attack.

Sweat breaks out on his face, his heart pounding. His vision is blurry, doubling for just a second. Then it immediately clears when he sees William driving down main street like the smug bastard owns it.

He’d let his hair grow out like the faggot he is, more bold in the shoulders, grew a few more inches, but he knows Sami’s bastard son when he sees him.

It takes all of his self control to not jump out of the car right that second and beat him to a bloody pulp, the least that he deserves.

That’ll have to wait, Stefano reminds himself. That has to be dealt with in private.

He watches Will walk into a building. For a second, Stefano considers following him--it would be private enough--but then he sees movement from a window.

A man, slightly familiar. Will walking up next to him so they’re both shown by the window.

His office. Thought he was such hot shit, but Stefano knows the truth. Sad sack of shit never made it in Chicago, so now he’s back in Salem, tail between his legs.

And in Salem, the traitor would get what he deserves.

More relaxed now, he drives towards the neighborhood of the old DiMera mansion. More changes, he notes. Playground for parents who didn’t feel like looking after their own children at home, like they’re supposed to. Kids on swings, sliding, biking--all on their own.

Disgusting.

He pulls over, this time to look at the mansion. His mansion. The strangers currently occupying it are squatters, Brady name be damned. Back when the world made sense, he could’ve had them thrown out on their asses with just a look.

Now he’s the squatter. All because of William.

He considers breaking in, to see what they’d done to his precious mansion. Find out their names, add to the list.

As he thinks about how to have them taken care of, a man comes from around the back, towards the truck in the driveway.

Dressed like a bum. He thinks. Hair styled like he takes more time on it than he should. Probably a faggot too. Unacceptable! He should walk right over to his mansion, drag him out by his faggoty hair.

But when the man looks his way, nerves set in, shaking enough to get him to step on the gas, peel out of there.

Now’s not the time, he soothes himself. Not nerves at all, willpower.

He locks himself in a motel room, pours a glass of brandy to calm himself down.

Only one. He has work to do.

He sits with Sami’s tablet and his hit list, starting to search social media platforms. He finds the website for William’s magazine office, for Eric’s piece of crap riverside cabins easily. As he studies, his anger burns him.

Eric’s had a seperate page for his business, but his personal one is private. He’d learned a few things while in prison, he doesn’t know the first thing about hacking.

Neither of the bastard children were on any social media, nor were Sami’s. But he finds what he’s looking for, thanks to Marlena Evans.

A stockpile of photos, of news for everyone to see.

Everything he needs to know, all spread out and posted by the quack. He looks at a picture of the family posted as William’s first family cookout at his new home. Another one of Eric’s hellspawn and William.

William and Ciara in front of William’s house, with Ciara nattering away about her sudden interest in landscaping, her summer job. He reads every single disgusting word, in case he can use any of it.

He studies the house itself. He’d already seen it on the very careful drive up the river.

Now he knows exactly where he can find Will for that moment in private.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start, I just want to say I'm so, so sorry.

Will startles awake when his security alarm goes off. When he moves to get out of bed, Sonny doesn’t even move. Will knows from experience the guy can sleep through an earthquake until his internal alarm clock goes off.

On his way to the balcony doors, he grabs some pants, yanking them on. He sees the taillights heading down his driveway.

Wrong turn, Will concludes, as he sees the motion sensors were activated, which then turned on the lights. Satisfied, Will goes back to bed, where Sonny’s still dead to the world.

Will’s positive he’s never met anyone that fits the phrase so perfectly. Once Sonny decides he’s done for the day, he doesn’t move or make even a noise until morning. Which makes him perfect for a person in the habit of light sleeping such as himself.

He drifts off again, only to wake up again an hour later, by his phone this time. His heart pounds--silly as it sounds, Will knows a call this early in the morning means nothing but bad news. Same goes for the readout from the security company.

“Will Horton.”

It’s not necessary for the sleeping giant, but Will still walks out of the bedroom while he talks to the security company about a potential break-in at his office.

They’re quick to assure him the cops were alerted, as Will moves back to the bedroom, turning the lights on the lowest setting as he grabs clothes.

“Will, it’s Ethan.”

“Just got the call from the security company.”

“Someone threw a rock through your office window. There’s already been three other similar calls just tonight. Probably a bunch of punks.”

“Damnit.”

“Got a good look through the window, and it looks like the only damage so far. You’ll need to come in, but no rush. No one actually broke in. I can actually see the rock itself on the floor, and your doors are still locked.”

“Alright, I’ll be there, but I’ll calm down first.”

“Take your time, we got it covered.”

Will gets dressed, grabs his insurance file out of his home office area. Once he’s downstairs, he makes coffee, then goes for a second cup--one that’s not even coffee, but overly caffeinated, and loaded with milk. He takes up both to the bedroom. He can always just leave a note, but come on, Sonny’s eyes would open in about 15 minutes anyway.

The fact that they already are startles Will something bad.

Sonny only says one choice word, “Coffee.”

“You don’t wake up to lights, or the phone ringing, but you do wake up to the smell of coffee? What are you?”

“Coffee.” Sonny repeats, taking the one offered. “Who was on the phone?”

“Someone threw a rock through the Spectator’s window.”

“What? Oh my god.” Sonny’s sleep deprived eyes are suddenly clear. “Will.”

“Apparently someone’s been doing it all over Salem all night. I’m gonna head out to see.”

“Want me to come with?” Sonny sweeps his mussed hair aside. “I can get dressed in like a minute.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Like Ethan said, probably just some hooligans. I’ll sort it all out, eat in town.”

“Alright. I’m sorry. This really sucks.”

“I’m sorry too, and you’re right.” Will leans in to kiss him. “See you.”

“Text me.” Sonny calls. “Let me know what’s going on.”

“I will.”

Sonny drinks half of his coffee still in bed--as a treat--while he fully wakes up.

Ain’t this a way to start the day, Sonny thinks. Vandalism just doesn’t compute. Tags in spray paint on abandoned buildings are one thing, even considered artsy, but destroying property is something else altogether, and just doesn’t make any sense.

What could someone possibly have to gain by breaking someone else’s window?

Sonny gets up, and since he’d already had a shower last night--with Will, again--pulls on his work clothes.

He’ll just top off his coffee, pour cereal, check the weather.

And get an early start on the stream.

As Sonny wanders around downstairs, he turns the lights on. After setting the coffeemaker to only half a cup, he checks the tablet in the kitchen for the weather report.

Hot and humid, probably late afternoon or night thunderstorms. Of course.

Yawning it all off, he pours cereal, grabbing the bananas he’d bought especially for when he’s over here.

As Sonny starts to pour stuff into his freshly made coffee, the security lights turn on again. Sonny’s mind immediately jumps to, deer.

Sonny sprays on a regular basis with his homemade repellent, even told Will and the rest of his little crew to pee all around the shrubs--just another repellent in Sonny’s mind. Most of what he’d planted was deer-resistant.

But it’s not like you can trust a deer anyway.

Sonny turns off the alarm, pulling open the doors, and stares out, completely expecting to chase whatever’s out there off.

The hit comes like a semi, knocking him down, making him hit the kitchen island and on the floor.

For a moment, in Sonny’s dazed state, he pictures a huge deer just charging inside. Then he sees the man.

“So William’s a faggot, and found another faggot to sodomize with. One that’s more effeminate than he is. Naturally.” The man shuts the doors behind him. “I saw your truck. Just needed you to let me in while he was distracted over in the Square. Thanks for your little part.”

The man makes his way towards Sonny, hands clenched in fists. “Now if you know what’s good for you, you’re going to stay where you are, and not make a sound.”

Like hell he is.

Sonny immediately gets up, spinning around, plants a hard kick to his midsection. His gut tells him to run as the man stumbles back. All he has to do is get outside, lose him in the wilderness.

But how’s Sonny supposed to warn Will while his phone’s still charging?

So Sonny turns back, heart pounding, ready for a fight. He’s not backing down.

Eyes glittering, the man charges. Quick, Sonny thinks, he’s really quick, and Sonny uses that to his advantage as Sonny pivots aside, with a follow up with a kick to the kidneys.

The man pitches forward, dropping to his knees.

“Don’t get up.”

The man gets back up, fists flying. Sonny blocks a hit with his forearm, feels the force go straight to his shoulder.

Sonny ducks, and comes back up with the heel of his hand. Feels the crunch of the man’s nose as it breaks.

The man gets the one up on Sonny, landing a hit on the still sore shoulder, aiming for Sonny’s face with his left hand. Sonny smacks the arm away, landing a higher kick, right on his jaw.

The second the man reels back, Sonny plants his boot--two kicks, fast and hard--right on the crotch.

This time when the man goes down, he doesn’t get back up.

So Sonny runs.


	52. Chapter 52

Will stands in the Spectator’s office, hands in his pockets. Just a broken window, he reminds himself. No one got hurt, easily fixed. And insured.

But it’s still incredibly upsetting that anyone would want to damage what belongs to him.

“Only person I know of that I’ve had any trouble with since I’ve been back would be Nick Fallon.” he tells Ethan.

His brother in law, blonde hair still messy from sleep, face still covered in some slight stubble, nods.

“I know. We’ll talk to him. But as I said, three other people have called to report a broken window, all over the span of about 20 minutes.”

“All in the Square?”

“Not exactly. I’ll have to look into that. Rafe was on call tonight, and called me when your office was hit. He handled the first two hits, but asked if I wanted to take this one. I’m closer, and family. By the way, I figured we should tell the commissioner.”

Ethan shakes his head at the rock, at the broken glass. “Just doesn’t strike me as the kind of vandalism that would happen around here. Someone’s mailbox getting bashed, TPing a house, keying cars, stuff like that.”

“When if you ever catch them, and they want to tell their story, don’t come crying to me.”

“I don’t blame you. Ethan’s radio signals. “Hang on.” Ethan walks away, coming back after a brief conversation.

“Commissioner's coming. She wants you here. She wants to talk to you.”

His brother in law may play the good cop well, but Will knows him to well to not see how worried he is. “What’s wrong?”

“He called the local cops in Crest Hill, to make absolutely sure Stefano DiMera is exactly where he should be.”

“Why?”

“Kaye Stevens’ window got a rock in her window too. Same goes for the DiMera mansion. There’s a connection there, Will, so we need to know.”

“Why would he--Sonny.” Real fear chills him straight to his bones. “He’s there. Alone.”

Will runs out before Ethan can stop him, peeling out of there right as Hope pulls in.

“Get in.” Hope shouts at Ethan. “Just got a 911 call from Will’s house.”

“Sonny’s there.”

“I know. He’s the one that called.”

The BMW hits 75 close to the town limits, and Will never takes his foot off the gas. He slams a hand on the hands free device to call Sonny, to warn him to hide, lock himself away and just fucking hide, right as the phone rings.

“Sonny, I need you to find somewhere safe to lock yourself in. I think Stefano’s gonna try to break in.”

“He already did. I’m safe. I already called 911.”

“I’m almost there.”

“I’m okay, Will. I’m okay. I--I can see you. Damnit, slow the fuck down. Don’t crash your car. I’m okay.”

Now Will can see Sonny, lit up by the security lights, sitting on the front steps. His face is so pale, the blood on it shines.

Sonny tries to stand as Will comes to a halt, then Sonny’s legs start to wobble, so he sits down again.

Will grabs him in an instant. “Where did he hurt you? What did he do? Where is he?”

“I’m not hurt. He damn well tried, but I’m not hurt too badly. He never left. He’s still inside.”

Everything in Will freezes, solidifying. “Hope’s coming. Hear the sirens? Stay right here and wait for her. Stay outside, Sonny. I mean it.”

Will goes inside, ready, even excited, to go after the man who’d dared raise a hand to the one he holds most dearly.

And finds Stefano DiMera on the floor, unconscious, arms and legs tied up with...bungee cords?

“Found them in my truck.” Sonny says from the doorway.

“This was you?”

“I...I think I’m gonna throw up.” When Sonny goes back outside, Will wraps his arms around again, helping him sit down.

“Hands behind your neck, head between your legs. Breathe, damnit. Just breathe.”

Will waits for Hope to pull up, and for Hope and Ethan to get out. “He’s inside. He’s not gonna hurt you. Sonny made sure of that.”

“Is he hurt? Does he need medical assistance.”

“Don’t think so.” Will keeps rubbing Sonny’s back, slow and easy. “Just a little shaken up. If he needs to go to the ER, I’ll take him. You can decide for yourself if he needs it.”

“I’m okay.” Sonny says again, keeping his head between his knees.

Ethan comes back out, crouching down in front of Sonny. He’s just as gentle as he is with Kyle.

“Dude, did you actually hog-tie that bastard with bungee cords?”

“It’s all I had.”

“What do you say we get you inside, get you in a seat for some water. If you don’t want to bother with the ER, I’ll call Kaye Stevens. She can look you over.”

“Definitely do that, Ethan.” Will tells him. “Should’ve been my first thought.”

“I swear I’m not hurt that badly.” Sonny starts, only to have Will help him up. “I can walk by myself.”

“No you can’t.” Will says, pulling Sonny inside.

Will walks right past Stefano and Hope, who’s replacing the cords with handcuffs, guiding Sonny to the sofa.

“Sit.”

“Do I get a treat?”

“Shut up.” Will heads to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, walking back, gets a cloth wet, and throws Sonny off kilter as Wil wipes the blood off.

“Not your blood.” Will murmurs, kissing Sonny’s cheek.

“Nope. It’s his. Broke his nose. That was for your benefit.”

That succeeds in shattering Will. Will grabs Sonny’s free hand, kisses it, just to hold it. Then Will looks right in Sonny’s eyes.

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

“Nice shot?”

“Damnit, Sonny.”

“Here.” Sonny hands him the water. “You need it too. Then we can just sit here so we can calm down.”

That’s how Hope finds them, sitting and passing a water bottle back and forth.

“Kaye and Joe are on their way. Ethan’s working on DiMera, and I have a few more cops on the way. He’ll need a doctor to look at him, so let's get him the hell outta here. You hurt anywhere, Sonny?”

“Not much.”

“The blood on your shirt...”

“Not mine. Broke his nose, and kicked him too. And his groin. I-I could defend myself. Krav Maga.”

Letting out a breath, Hope sits. “Are you at a point where you can tell me what happened?”

“Uh-huh. I was a little shaken up before. I never really...it’s not the same as training or a competition. I was here, in the kitchen, when the security lights flashed on. I just thought it was a deer. I use repellant to keep them away, but deer can still be tricky. So I shut off the alarm, opened the back door to look outside and scare them away. Never even saw him coming. He ran right at me--which was his first mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“If he’d used his fist, he could’ve had me on the ground, even knocked me unconscious, but he just charged at me, knocked me into the kitchen island--I think that’s what happened--so I fell. I was slightly winded, but not completely down. I’m almost positive I saw him yesterday, across the street from the DiMera mansion, where Kayla’s living.”

“Did you see the model of the car?”

“Black four door sedan. Don’t know much about cars, so I wouldn’t know the make, but I’m almost positive it was a luxury car. It looked brand new, but I’m not positive.”

“Okay, he shoved you hard enough to knock you down, then what happened?”

“Called, Will a faggot, shacking up with another faggot, something about seeing my truck parked.”

“Lights went on just after 2.” Will adds. “I saw the taillights going back when I got up to go look. My guess is he pulled up, and saw I wasn’t by myself.”

“He probably saw me and my truck at the DiMera mansion, and put two and two together. Wait a second. He said he needed me to let him inside while Will was at the square. Oh my God, the broken window.”

Hissing, Sonny taps a hand to his head. “I fell for it like the worlds biggest dumbass. Well, it’s not like he got away with it, huh? He wanted to make sure I’d keep my mouth shut, not moving, then he came after me again. I got back up. I swear he looked almost amused and actually happy that I wasn’t gonna do that. But he had no idea just how hard I could kick his ass.”

Tears leak from Sonny’s eyes, has him massaging his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Hop orders. “We can do this later, if you want.”

“No, no. I’m fine. He didn’t know the first thing about fighting, just how to hit and make it hurt. I hit him first, but he wouldn’t let up. I knocked him onto the floor, started to run away, but then I realized my phone wasn’t on me, so maybe I could lose him in the trees, but I had no way to warn Will. So I decided I wasn’t gonna back down.”

Sonny takes a second to wipe his tears, sip his water.

“He got back down, and I didn’t--back down. While he was out, I ran out to my truck. The cords I had handy, and I wanted him tied up in case he was conscious before I could call for help. And that’s pretty much it.”

Sonny starts to get up, but Will stops him.

“I want a Dr. Pepper.”

“I’ll grab it. Sit.”

When Will walks to the kitchen, he sees Kaye rush right in, with her partner Joe behind her. And Stefano sitting up, in handcuffs, face covered in blood and bruises.

“Nice to see you again, Stefano.” Kaye sneers. “Really nice to see you like this. Take him, Joe. I’ll take the younger one.”

She starts back, eyes meeting Will’s for one long second. The she crosses over to Sonny, crouching, and smiles, “How’re you doing?”

“I’m alright.”

“Let me decide that. Feeling dizzy or nauseous?”

“No. There was both right after it happened, but it was just a knee jerk reaction.”

She opens her kit, taking out a blood pressure cuff. “Your knuckles are pretty banged up. You got some up your right arm too.”

“Blocked a hit. He’s really strong.”

“He likes hitting in the gut.”

“Never even landed one. Only got one in the blur of adrenaline. On the shoulder--and it was already hurting from blocking. Must be rusty, otherwise he never would’ve landed that either.”

“If you call that rusty,” Hope notes. “Please let me know when you’re on the top of your game.”

“I agree.” Kaye agrees. “I have to look at the shoulder.”

Sonny has to clench his teeth, but somehow he peels his T shirt off. Twisting his head around, he got his own first look. “Oh, dammit. He got me alright.”

“His back’s covered in bruises and scratches.” Will’s voice is a harsh calm, completely contradictory to the anger making his blood boil.

“I’m just sore, I swear.” As proof, Sonny lifts an elbow, then his arm, trying to roll the shoulder back, then forward. “Didn’t pull a muscle or break anything. Complete motion range. I know how it feels when it’s seriously hurting. This isn’t that. A few painkillers will do the job fine.”

“After you go to the ER.” Hope says.

“But I don’t--”

“I’ll make sure he goes.” Will interrupts.

“It’ll only look worse on DiMera if you have a doctor look at you for all the damage he caused you.” Hope points out. “It’ll really help.”

“Fine, fine. But I have to get the crew started first. Most likely they’re already here and wondering what the hell’s going on.”

“Hold on a minute.”

When Kaye goes out to consult with Joe, and Hope walks away to answer her phone, Will pulls out a bag of frozen corn.

“Never eat it.” he says as he hands Sonny the Dr. Pepper, laying it on Sonny’s shoulder. “But always have it on hand.”

“Me too. Just a few bumps and scrape. I’m okay, Will.”

“I know.” Will keeps stroking Sonny’s hair. “But I still say you’re going to the ER.”

“We’re taking DiMera to Crest Hill.” Kaye says, “Muhammad Ali here did a serious number on him. Broken nose, both black eyes, a few teeth knocked loose. Jaw might even be broken. Balls are seriously bruised. Hope’s got two cops riding with.”

“As for you.” Kaye walks over, grabbing Sonny in a tight hug. “We’re letting the ER know to be ready for you.”

She walks over to Will, giving him a hard hug with one arm. “Don’t you worry about any of this. We got him.”

When Sonny stands up, he feels a twinge her and there, and really stiff in ways he’s not ready to talk about. “Need a new shirt. Gotta talk to the crew.”

“You can borrow one of mine.”

“Good idea to move, so you don’t get stiff.”

Will’s seriously worried about just blowing a fuse. “Let me help you.”

“You’ve been doing that from the second you slammed on the brakes outside. Trust me, you made all the difference in the world. But fine, I’ll let you grab me a shirt, then drive me to the ER after I talk to my crew.”

“Will.” Hope steps in. “I need to talk to you.”

“What? What’s wrong?” He can see it, something is really wrong.

Sonny steps back, “I can--”

“No.” Will takes Sonny’s hand, holding him there. “What’s wrong?”

“Got a call from Chicago. The locals got access to where DiMera was living. Sami’s dead, Will. Probably been dead for a few days. They still need to do an autopsy to figure out what she died from.”

Sonny moves in closer, gripping Will’s hand tighter. 

“I know I’m supposed to feel something, but nothing. Maybe once I’m back on Earth.”

“Do not worry about any of this. I’m gonna handle it.”

“Uncle Eric. My grandma Marlena and John.”

“I’ll take care of it. Take care of your guy, leave the rest to me.” Hope puts one hand on Will’s shoulder. “Leave it all to me.”

Completely numb, Will doesn’t move from his spot. “Tell me everything once you know.”

“I will. Now you go get checked out, Sonny, and I want to know everything. I need to take pictures of your injuries.”

“Okay, whatever.”

“I’m gonna go get him a clean shirt.”

Nodding, Hope takes out her phone. “Please just let him take care of you, okay? It’ll help him just as much as you.”

Sonny’s already seen the rigidness in Will’s posture, the blankness in his eyes.

“We can take care of each other.”


	53. Chapter 53

While in the most ironic twist to date, Kayla, Will’s aunt as well as the woman now living in the DiMera mansion, gives Sonny treatment, Will goes to find Alie’s office. 

He manages to find her before her first appointment, and the surprised smile she gives in greeting fades when she sees the look in Will’s eyes.

“You’re gonna want to sit down for this.”

“Grandma Marlena.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she has a hand on her chest. “No, not John?”

“No, no, they’re okay.” Just rip it off like a bandaid. “Sami’s dead.”

“Oh...” As she drops her hand, Allie’s breath is shaky. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. How could I? He murdered her.”

“We don’t know that for sure, but how could he not have? But that’s not all.”

While he tells Allie the rest, she stands up, walking to the window, walking around the room, hands clenched in fists.

There’s only the slightest hint of pity as she speaks. “He could’ve had a life. They could’ve had a life. But he never would’ve been satisfied with just that. We’re to blame for his fall from grace--that’s how he was always gonna see it. We had to pay. He was going to kill you.”

“And Sonny too, because he just happened to be there. Because he’s with me. He would’ve gone after you too if he’d been able.”

Allie doesn’t even flinch, just nods. “You’re right. You first, then me. Uncle Eric, Hope, Kaye, and I’m pretty sure even Kayla and Steve just because he saw it as them living in his mansion.”

She leans against the desk. “I know he has to have a list,, whether he wrote it down, or just committed it to memory. Everyone he thinks was responsible for taking his life away from him. Hope should make absolutely sure he came here before anywhere else. I’m almost positive he would--you’d be number one on the hit list--but Hope needs to check on his lawyer and the judge that handed down his sentence.”

“Jesus.” Compared to how calm she’s being, Will’s scratching a hand through his hair. “Why the hell didn’t I think of that? I’ll bet anything Hope already did.”

“How the hell are you still standing and talking with everything that’s going on right now? You would’ve stopped him if given the chance, Will. He has no idea who you are now.”

“Sonny already did. He has no idea the man Sonny is.”

“Thank God for that.” Allie rubs a hand over her face. “Kayla’s an amazing doctor. If it’s worse than just bruises and scrapes, she’ll be able to see and treat it. I want to see for myself, but I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say.”

“You’ll think of it.” Somehow Will manages to smile, at least part way. “You’re good at things like that.”

“I should reschedule everything. Uncle Eric might need me. He’s Sami’s twin brother. And Grandma Marlena, and John Black. Regardless, she was Grandma’s daughter. Oh my god, Will, what are we supposed to do? What can we do?”

“We’ll figure something out.” Will pulls her in for a hug. “We’ll figure it out.” he says again. “We managed just fine, didn’t we? We’ve been through so much worse than this. We’ll get through this, with them, for them.”

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m so glad you’re back home.” She hugs him hard, before pulling back. “I just thought about something. There’s something that might be able to help Uncle Eric, Marlena, John Black. Something exciting.”

“Whatever it is, I’m in.”

“I peed on a stick.”

Startled, Will just stares. “Why would you--” then what that actually means sinks in. “Oh my god, really?”

“Positive, as they say. Haven’t even told Ethan yet because he...you know. I was only planning on telling him for the first few weeks, but if this isn’t the time for happy news, when will it? We want our kids to have each other, and we just did it.”

“This is amazing, Allie, this is so amazing.”

“A testament to us. We’re building our own lives, and living them. Both us us, Will. Yeah, we’re definitely okay. They can’t take who we are away from us. We’re still us despite what they did.”

Despite what they did, Will thinks. And in a lot of ways, because of what they did. He makes his way back to the ER and while he waits, contacts Richard.

He’s probably already going crazy with the rumors, but Will’s able to add details, tell Richard he’s okay, and Sonny’s in good hands. And asks Richard to take care of his insurance claim, and cancel whatever’s on his schedule.

He’ll show up when he can.

Sonny, only slightly pissed off, comes out with the very pregnant Kayla.

“Hey, Will. You in charge of this guy?”

“Hey.”

Will’s quick to gloss over the objection. “Yes I am.”

“Nothing’s broken, no muscles pulled or torn. He’s got some bruising, and his shoulder’s gonna be sore for a while. Ice and painkillers should do the trick. No heavy lifting, or digging for at least two days.”

“Understood.”

“Same goes for his back and hip.” Kayla hands Will a bag. “Some medication samples for his hands, and instructions. We’ll need a follow up in two days.”

“He’ll come back.”

“Number’s on the list. Any problems come up, call me.”

“Thank you, but I’ll be okay.” Sonny says.

“Don’t even try to dig!” Kayla warns as Sonny pulls Will out of the wing.

“Man, she’s the most thorough doctor I’ve ever met. She had me scared she was gonna go old school and put a leech on me. Did you find Allie?”

“Yeah. We’re okay.”

“Okay. Just drop me off, then you can go see Eric.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Which it is, even if Sonny doesn’t know the other half.

When Will drops Sonny off, Will becomes even more annoying by repeating all of Kayla’s instructions to Sonny’s freaked out, pissed, and morbidly curious crew. With the added threat of kicking all their asses if they didn’t see to it Sonny obeyed them.

Then he goes to see Uncle Eric.

He’s sitting on the back porch, staring off into space, then stands up when he sees Will.

“I should’ve come here first. I--”

“Don’t. I’m okay.”

“Sonny.”

“Looked over by Kaye and Kayla. He’s gonna be okay too.” Will can see a tear or two had been shed, struggling with them himself. “You talked to Hope, didn’t you?”

“I told her to keep going. She has enough to worry about and none of it she can do here. I gotta call Marlena and John, but...”

“That can wait.” Will pulls him in.

“My God, Will, to think he’d come back here after all this time. To try and hurt you again. Worse. Had to be worse. He killed Sami, you know he had to have done it.”

“I know.” Will rubs Uncle Eric’s back, to try and smooth out the shaking, and finally just buries his face in his shoulder. “Let it out. Just let it all out.”

Once Uncle Eric complies, the strongest man Will knows clings to him, lets out all the silent sobbing he’s capable of. 

So Will just stands there, holding him and not saying a word.

“Why am I so upset about this? You didn’t get hurt. You and Hope told me Sonny’s okay. I have to go see him, but… and that bastard’s been arrested. In the hospital thanks to that wonderful man, and arrested. We’re safe. We all are. Our family is safe.”

“Your twin sister is dead.”

“Will.” Eric pulls back, wiping his hands. “I can’t even picture her. I can’t even see her face.”

“Here, sit. I’m gonna grab some water and some kleenex.”

Will grabs water for both of them, holding the tissues in front of Uncle Eric. Eric pulls some out to blow his nose, wipes his face.

“We were never close.” Eric finally says. “Seemed like we were always fighting about something. That twin psychic thing? Didn’t apply to us. SIblings fight all the time. My god, Ciara and Shawn went through times when they couldn’t function without fighting. But they still managed to bond. Sami and I were never, ever like that.”

“You’re polar opposites.” Will adds. “You don’t have anything in common.”

“I didn’t love her. Or at least I don’t remember when I did. I make no apologies for it. I’m not to blame for that.”

“You’re right. You’re not. So why all the guilt because you didn’t?”

Uncle Eric sighs, “I have no idea. I really don’t.” He reaches down to pet the dog at their feet. “But I’m still sorry I didn’t, couldn’t. I’m sorry she’s now dead, and that her choices alone led to her being dead. I’m also sorry for how hard it’s going to be for my mom and John because I know they loved her.”

Uncle Eric puts a hand on Will’s shoulder. “We’re gonna be there for them. That’s what we do.”

“And we’ll do what we have to. Did you talk to Allie?”

“I did. She’s okay too. Actually...she should really be the one to tell you, but I’m gonna tell anyway. She’s pregnant with the next Horton.”

“She...” the tears come again, but Uncle Eric shakes his head, pointing at his face. “Happy. Happy tears. We’re not just moving on, Will, we’re living.”

Uncle Eric squeezes Will’s shoulder. “And that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Will’s going to move on, and he hopes more than anything he’ll live.

But first, there’s some business he needs to take care of.


	54. Chapter 54

When Will shows up at the hospital in Chicago, after a very long phone conversation with Justin, Sonny’s dad, Hope’s already waiting for him outside the ER.

“I knew there was no way I could tell you to not come.”

“Absolutely not.” Will agrees.

“I’m going to allow you to talk to him--after me. Right now he’s being put in a room. They want to keep him here for a few hours before transporting him back to Crest Hill.”

“That’s plenty of time.”

“You’re right.” Hope rests a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Let’s take a walk. Way easier to talk outside than in. We don’t even know what he’s going to say.”

Will shoves his hand into his pocket, gripping it around the baseball stashed in there. “Did he lawyer up?”

“Not yet. But seeing his jaw’s been wired, he won’t be talking much. Fixed up his nose, did all the necessary X-rays and such. Looks like Sonny got a real good kick to the balls in.”

“I gotta buy him flowers. A whole garden’s worth, if I can swing it.”

Hope smiles, then sighs. “I’m not sorry he’s got more damage from Sonny than Sonny does from him. So while we’re still walking, I’ll just tell you what we’ve been able to put together.”

“He killed Sami. There’s not a doubt in my mind.”

“I’m not going to disagree, but we still need the autopsy. I can tell you he had a job, and called in sick. Neighbors gave statements about seeing him, in and out up to Sunday, but hadn’t seen her since last Wednesday. Their next door neighbor saw her step outside the front door Wednesday afternoon, before he came home. Nothing since.”

“So he had to have killed her Wednesday night.”

“That’s what we’re thinking, but we’re going to wait until we have that confirmed. I’ve been in contact with the cops in Crest Hill. Looks like his supervisor didn’t report him when he never showed up, because he called in sick. He has Mondays and Tuesdays off.”

Will nods. “So most likely he left right after work on Sunday, took his time to get here, most likely used the back roads, paid cash everywhere he stayed, for gas.”

“They’re working on tracking him now. Us too. So far we have him staying for two nights at a motel close to town. A tablet was confiscated, cash, a journal--a paper one. More cash in the car he parked on the road close to your house.”

Hope scratches her face. “A lot in the journal, with a list of names at the beginning.”

Allie called it to a T, Will thinks. “Revenge hit list.”

“That’s what I said. All the details on how exactly the ones on the list pissed him off, what he knows about them--where they live, what they do. Ways to take them out.”

“He’d want to beat me to a bloody pulp with his bare hands. How about you?”

Hope walks ahead a few steps. “I refuse to tell any of this to Eric or the kids. There’s literally no point. His favorite choice was to set the whole house on fire, with all of us trapped in it.”

“My god, Hope, he lost his damn mind.” Will holds up a hand, shifting to the investigative journalist in him. “Sonny’s dad told me how most likely that’s what Stefano’s lawyer is going to argue. Not guilty by means of insanity. But Justin also said that would never hold up here. He called in sick to buy time, he broke the Spectator’s window as bait, the money, all the meticulous planning--because you know he had to have planned it all. He doesn’t meet the requirements for insanity.”

Will keeps thinking it over, “He left everything in the motel room because he was coming back. He was gonna check out, after finishing me off, and Sonny. Unless...”

It’s still not enough, Will thinks, ignoring the sirens as an ambulance pulls up.

It would never be over, not for him.

“He’s always been an arrogant bastard, Hope. He would’ve gone after Allie, Uncle Eric, your whole family. Kaye and her--whoever in Salem was on his hit list. He blames all of us, and he would’ve finished all of us off before finally taking off.”

“I’m not gonna disagree with that either, but now he has to live with knowing that will never happen. Insanity or not, he’s going back, Will, and he’s not coming back out, now or ever.”

“I want to sit in on your interview. I won’t say a word,” Will adds quickly. “And if he has a problem with me there, I’ll go. But I really don’t think that will happen. You want a confession as a cherry on top? Let me in there.”

Hope paces for a moment, fighting against her better judgement. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You can sit in, but you don’t say a word until I’ve had my time with him. He wants you to leave, you leave. You do anything to mess up my interview, we’re going to have a very long conversation, and you’re not gonna like it..”

“Believe me when I say that won’t be necessary. I really appreciate this, Hope.”

“Then let’s go. Let’s see if he’s been cleared to talk--however much he can.”

There’s been some changes to the ER over the years, but when Will walks in this time, there’s not a mark on him, and he’s free as a bird. But the memories still come, all the pain and fear. His arm throbs with phantom pain, his throat burns from the sudden dryness.

Will doesn’t say a word while Hope clears them to go through, nor does he say anything in the elevator.

“Cop’s on the door.” Hope tells him. “And Ethan’s inside with him too. We’re not taking any chances this time.”

Will only nods.

Hope flashes her badge when they reach the nurse’s station, and keeps going.

“Go on break.” Hope tells the officer on the door. “I’ll let you know when we’re done here.”

“Of course, Commissioner.”

Ethan stands when Hope and Will walk inside, setting his who knows how old magazine down.

This time, Stefano’s handcuffed to his bed, face mottled with bruises and gauze. The monitor jumps, which tells Will Stefano’s heart rate jumped when Will looks right in his severely messed up eyes.

“Turn on the recorder, Ethan, so Mr. DiMera and I can speak.”

Stefano’s reply comes through clenched teeth. “Stefano.”

“You gave up the right to be called what you wish a long time ago. Go get yourself some coffee, Ethan.” Hope just points in the empty chair Ethan leaves behind.

Will takes it without a word.

“This is Salem’s Police Commissioner Hope Brady interviewing Stefano DiMera after he’s been cleared for questioning. Have you been read your rights, Mr. DiMera? We have that on record already, but it’s always nice to ask anyway, right?”

“I am well aware of my rights.”

“Good. Now, you’ve been charged with trespassing, breaking and entering, and assault and battery. There’s also stealing a license plate, and putting it on your car. Which is illegal. You’ve violated your parole in every which way imaginable, so now you’re going to be serving the remaining years on your sentence before we even add the charges I mentioned.”

Hope eases up some on the bed, in what many would mistake for being friendly, “And none of that even includes the charges of murder. The local cops found Sami’s body, Mr. DiMera. Exactly where you left it, right on the floor, head resting on a pillow, under a blanket and covered by a sheet. With all visible signs of assault present.”

“Just an accident.”

“Are you really going to try and pull that here? You beating on your daughter in law, leaving her on the floor, then driving all the way here to do the same to Will, was an accident?”

“She fell. Samantha fell and hit her head. Brain bleed.”

“Did she face plant? They sent a photo.” Hope pulls out her phone, never stopping her speech as she pulls up the image. “Did she fall on her face, then the back of her head? That’s really something.”

She shoves it right in front of Stefano’s face. “You hit her, more than once from what they can already see, and she hit the kitchen counter--her blood stained it.”

“She fell. Brain bleed.”

“And you just let her die?”

“Nothing I could do.”

“How about call 911?”

“I can take care of my family.” Stefano seethes.

“No you can’t. You’re a violent bastard whose attack on the very same woman who, for reasons I still can’t wrap my head around, stood up for him, waited patiently for him, threw her own children under the bus for him, ultimately killed her. We found your room, Mr. DiMera, and your car. Your tablet. Not even a minute on it, and we knew you were stalking Will, Allie, Eric, and so many more.”

Stefano turns his head to look at Will. “What do you think you’re looking at? You think you’re important? You’re worthless. Were worthless, are, and will always be worthless.”

Instead of responding or reacting, Will just stares right back at Stefano. In his pocket, he rubs his fingers against the baseball.

“He was worth leaving your dead daughter in law on the floor, coming all the way back to Salem, forcing your way into Will’s house, and attacking an innocent bystander.” Hope’s quick to point out.

“Worthless. House? Worthless. Tabloid journalist? Worthless. You’re just sitting there, too scared to even say a word.”

Will keeps the stare, and only smiles.

“Don’t you dare try and smile at me.” Stefano winces, trying to yell it, but the wired jaw won’t let him. “Worthless no good twerp. Should’ve killed you as a baby, you and your trollop of a sister. You took everything away from me. You killed your mother.”

Hope catches Will’s eye, nodding.

“How do you figure?” Will muses out loud.

“Disrespectful bastard. I couldn’t make you man up. I gave you a home, and you thank me by destroying mine. I should’ve killed you that night, you and your whore of a sister. Samantha would still be alive, and we’d all be better off.”

“You just couldn’t resist the temptation to hit her, could you? All that time you spent rotting away in prison, all those years she waited for you to get out, and you still wouldn’t stop.”

“She wasn’t like she used to be. She was gone. That’s on you.”

“So after hitting her after you got out, and watched the light go out of her eyes, you came back here for revenge against me.”

“You deserve to pay. All of you.”

“You threw all those rocks through the windows, all as bait so you could invade my house.” Will says in a derisive, mocking tone. “You just decided, what the hell, there’s someone I care about by himself in there. And you were always at you best when you were beating up someone smaller than you, weaker. Then you could just wait in the wings, and get your revenge.”

“You destroy my life, I destroy yours.”

“You invaded my house, attacking Sonny with every intention of waiting for me until I got back so you could show me his dead body, then murder me.”

“I let you into my home. I have every right to take back the life you had because of me. I have every right to make every second a living hell for every second I spent in that hellhole.”

“You killed your daughter in law.”

“I got rid of the shell of a person she turned into. It was a mercy kill. You took her away from me. It should’ve been you.”

Will stands, crossing over to the bed. “The only thing I’m sorry for is never getting the chance to settle this like men, just you and me. But looks like a faggot, as you like to call men like me, beat me to it. And he beat the crap out of you. Imagine how embarrassing that has to be for a man like you, and that just makes it all the more satisfying for me. Here’s something for you to think long and hard about while you go back to rotting away in prison for all the days of your life. One strong, smart little girl ruined whatever plans you had for me 9 years ago. And now a tough, smart gay guy ruined them again today.”

Will goes for the door, then stops, looking back one last time. “If I had any part in where you went back then, or now? All the more reason to raise a glass.”

Ethan walks over when Will finally steps out. “You okay?”

“I’m great. From what little I know from Sonny’s dad, there’s now enough on record for the DA to charge him second degree murder, along with all those other charges. He’ll definitely get a lawyer and try to plead it down to first degree manslaughter, but it doesn’t matter. He’s gone. The next time he leaves Statesville, will be in a body bag.”

“He deserves it. Look, if you have to hang out, get a drink, I’m there.”

“I know. Tell Hope I’ll call her later. I have to go home, make sure Sonny’s not climbing the walls.”

He’s sure Sonny doesn’t have a favorite flower, so he just buys a bunch of everything that looks bright and joyous, smells good.

Then he realizes the vases he has at home won’t cut it, so with the help of a very happy clerk, buys vases of all sizes, small, big, square, tall, and even a huge bucket to hold all of them until he actually gets home.

Since he’s already knee deep, he decides to seal the deal with a few bottles of champagne.

Rarely ever does he buy jewelry, and he’s not about to start, but a little something catches his eye, like fate.

Instead of cufflinks Sonny most likely won’t ever wear, he buys a simple leather bracelet.

While he drives home, the wind blows the scent of flowers all over the car, he realizes he’s not the same man that left for Chicago.

Whatever power Stefano and Sami had over him, deep inside, is gone now. 

It’s over, he thinks again, really and truly over.

He pulls over by the river to get out, to look at the sky.

Maybe he’s still caught in the undertow, and always will be, but never would it be life threatening again.

He’ll keep building his magazine, and take Sonny out on the river.

And what the hell, maybe he’ll even play baseball again.

And leave the past in the past where it belongs. Wasting away, like Stefano.

He cruises up his driveway, sees the steadiness of the house--that was all him--the charm of the balconies--the new trees--that was all Sonny.

Will wonders if, like himself, Sonny’s started to see this place, this house, as a culmination of the both of them. And what that means to Will, what it might even mean to Sonny.

For now, he just parks up front, hauling it all inside.

Will watches through the door, looking at how Sonny’s placing a stone, how he and Ben use the elevation, in the design, with Ciara doing all the heavy lifting.

Will still can’t see it, but figures if he can’t trust Sonny’s vision by now, Will’s a moron. And a man smart enough to want Sonny Kiriakis is no moron.

Will opens the doors, leaving them wide open, walking out into the music of a miniature boombox.

Ben sees Will first, raising a hand, “He’s not pushing himself. We’re all over him.”

“Good. Where’d everybody go?”

“Maintenance.” Sonny wipes the sweat off his face. “Are you checking up on me? Don’t you think all these bodyguards are enough?”

“He’s not taking it too well.” Ciara tells Will.

“How am I supposed to take it?” Sonny mutters pointing a finger where he wants Ciara to set the stone down to arrange it.

“Almost time for him to take his meds.”

Sonny glares at Ben. “I know exactly what time it is.”

“Pretty hot out here.” Will notes. “How about I make everyone some lemonade?”

Sonny turns to look at Will “You can make lemonade?”

“Sure. Get out the mix, dump into cold water, stir.”

Sonny’s not so pissy he can’t smile at that. “Apparently we have the same family recipe.”

“I’ll get on that, then everyone else can take a break, Sonny can take his meds.”

And, Will thinks as he goes inside, he’ll call his office right after, work from home.

Later, he can grill some meat and baked potatoes, and some corn, why not.

Because no matter the colossal bitch fit Sonny throws, Will’s gonna take care of him.


	55. Chapter 55

Sweating, sore all over, but still satisfied, Sonny takes a few pictures of the work in progress on the water feature before calling it a day.

He knows Will’s sitting on the back patio with his computer, a soda, and one of the many baseballs he likes to carry with him. He’s already had to put up with Ben’s constant teasing.

“Looks like someone has their eyes on you, boss.”

Just like he’s already had to put up with a barely young adult hand him a new ice pack every hour to remind him to take a break and put it on his shoulder.

He’s not stupid, Sonny reminds himself, and he’s more than capable of doing his own job, and being all annoyed by it while still feeling touched by the worry.

Now that the day’s work is finished, his crew gone for the day, he braces himself for the inevitability of Will’s constant worrying over him.

So Sonny walks over to Will’s table, picking up Will’s drink, chugging half of it down. “You realize you didn’t have to park yourself out here. Believe me, I already had my fill of Ciara and Ben all over me about taking it easy.”

“I know.” Will finishes up the email he’s currently writing. “Actually, I think I like working from home and outside, surrounded by the landscaping my own boyfriend did himself. Kind of a nice change of pace.”

Will lifts his head towards the slow progress of the water feature. “Coming along nicely, from where I’m sitting.”

“It is. And if you leave right now, go back to work like a normal person, you’ll see the finished work by the end of Sunday. Provided rain doesn’t delay us.”

“Oh yeah? That’s actually good, because if you’re gonna be done with it by the end of the month, I’m gonna throw together a little 4th of July party.”

“Really?”

“Helluva view of the fireworks right by the river not far from here.”

“Huh.” After taking his sunglasses off, Sonny narrows his eyes. “You look like you’re in a happier mood than usual.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“Then I will.”

“I’m actually thinking about starting up the grill. Wanna join me?”

No worrying, Sonny concludes, and has no idea what to do with that information, or the suddenly good mood Will’s suddenly in.

“I might. But I wanna grab a shower first.”

Sonny walks inside, then nearly marches right back out. “What, is the Tournament of Roses parade starting in your kitchen?”

“What? No!” Shaking his head and laughing, Will stands up. “I just forgot. I got them for you.”

“Me? Horton, there’s got to be enough for a small flower shop in there.”

“Couldn’t make up my mind, so I just grabbed them all. The vases too.” he adds as they both go in together. “Thought about putting them in vases, but then I thought I’d just leave them up to you.”

“Well then,” Sonny struggles to come up with an appropriate word, before just going for, “Wow.”

“Didn’t bother getting a card because I don’t think they even make one that says everything I want to say. Like thank you, I’m so sorry, get well soon, maybe even a congrats for good measure. And just the general idea of you being important to me. You’re so important to me, Sonny.”

“Wow.” Doesn’t even cover it, Sonny realizes, to what Will’s making him feel right this second. All those words, the way Will’s looking at him right now, the smell and colors they’re surrounded by.

“I’m covered in dirt, but I just decided I don’t care.” Sonny moves to Sonny, wraps his arms around Will, hoping everything he’s feeling right this second comes through in the kiss he gives Will.

“This is so amazingly wonderful, Will. Ridiculously, amazingly touching.” Before taking a step back, Sonny places both hands on Will’s face. 

“I’m gonna have the time of my life rearranging them.”

“We have champagne while you do that.”

That makes Sonny blink. “You bought champagne.”

“Picked up a bottle or two.” Will grabs one from the fridge, starts to pop it open. “Damn, should’ve asked if you like champagne.”

“I’d be an idiot not to. Will, where did you run off to when you left this morning?”

“We can talk about that.” Will opens the bottle, opening it with a satisfying pop. “Until then, take a look at this.”

He hands Sonny a small box, then pulls out two flutes.

Completely blown away, maybe even nervous, Sonny just stares at it. “Will, I just got a few bruises here and there. The kind of attention you’re giving me would be better suited to a coma patient.”

“You couldn’t drink champagne if you were in a coma. Take a look. If you still want me to take it back, I’ll keep it for myself because it reminds me of you.”

As nervous as Sonny suddenly is, he can’t help but not be curious, so he lifts off the lid. And has to smile when he sees the leather bracelet, along with a quote engraved on the metal bit.

“Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness.”

Holding it up so the metal shines in the light, Sonny looks at Will. “I’ve seen some serious stuff. I wouldn’t call any of it kind.”

“Comparatively, then. And we both know you’re anything but weak.”

“Well, regardless, I love it, so no keeping it for yourself.” He slides the bracelet over his wrist. “I think I’m gonna make it a habit of bleeding you dry every time I get hurt, just to see what falls out.”

Will doesn’t smile. “This was personal.”

“Okay. How about we sit outside and drink this bubbly, and tell me why you took off so angry, and came back so happy.”

“We’ll do that. Then I’ll fire up the grill while you do something with the flowers.”

Will sits outside with Sonny, diving straight in because Will wants this part of the night over and done with as quickly as possible.

“Remember how I talked to Allie, then Uncle Eric--and I’ll get back to that in a second. Then I drove into Chicago to see Stefano.”

“I should’ve guessed you’d do that.”

“He looks like he got knocked around a bit with a boxing champ, which he definitely did. Matching black eyes, nose broken. Jaw wired shut. Didn’t get to look at his privates, but I was told those were practically squished too. No, don’t look so upset. Seriously don’t.”

“I’ve never attacked anyone, beaten the crap out of anyone like that. It’s completely different when you’re just training. Even with Leo, it was nowhere near on this level.”

Will reaches over, tugging part of Sonny’s t-shirt down to show the bruises. “You really think he would’ve stopped with just these?”

“No, I already know that. I was defending myself.”

“Hope let me sit in the room while she interviewed him while he was in the hospital. They found the room he was staying at, and his car. There’s evidence everywhere on what he had planned. And of course, just like I knew he would, me being in the room got to him. Me just sitting there, staring at him, and all of his anger and hate just took him over.”

Will tells Sonny, not sugarcoating anything, just getting right down to the nitty gritty.

“And he confessed.” Simultaneously shocked and disgusted, Sonny digs his fingernails into his wrist. “To killing his daughter in law, planning on coming here to kill all of you.”

“I really want to say he’s changed since the last time I saw him, but that would be a lie.” Will picks up his ball, studying it, turning it around. “I think all that time in prison, and his life after he got out, just left him exposed and vulnerable. He couldn’t build his walls back up fast enough, hide behind it. He’s just himself, and there’s nowhere to hide anymore.”

It helps to sit out here with Sonny, smelling the flowers, feeling the fresh air while Will lets the day slide right off him.

“Hope got the prelim report on Sami about an hour ago. Cause of death turned out to be right on Stefano’s account. Brain bleed from the blow to the head. She had new and old bruises. I’m gonna guess first degree manslaughter before it’s completely finished.”

“But--”

Will waves it off. “Circumstances and the pattern, and evidence, he’ll most likely get 20 years. And then there’s the aggravated assault and battery on you, breaking his probation, and so forth, past history of violence, he’s not getting out again. He’ll rot in prison.”

Pausing here, Will looks out at everything that’s his, what Sonny had made out of it, the blooms in places Will never would've thought to put them, the small trees, pots bursting with color.

“I never got to confront him that night. I was the one in the hospital, handcuffs and all. After that, I had to testify in court, but I never confronted him to his face. Today I did, for myself, Allie and Uncle Eric, my grandparents. And you.”

“And when I finally walked away, that’s when it really and truly hit me was over--it wasn’t before, because I’d been pushing it away all this time. Now I’m not. I just ripped it right out like a...an ugly tumor. It’s gone, with no evidence of festering.”

“You've got my utmost respect for what you did.”

"He couldn't even get close to me."

"Maybe not physically. But we both know how much emotional abuse can eat away at you. It takes serious guts and brains. Real brains, Will. You knew exactly how to get under his skin. I'll bet that's what makes you one hell of an investigative journalist."

"I'm not bad." Will flashes a smile. "Definitely nothing to sneeze at. Now let's move into something more happy. Uncle Eric's gonna be okay. It's still hard on him, and my grandparents too, but we're all gonna move past it. Same for Allie, because we all have something super exciting to focus on. Allie's pregnant."

“She--that’s amazing!” Sonny immediately lifts his glass, tapping it with Will’s. “Best champagne, with the most exciting news. How far along is she?”

“I have no idea. It’s still pretty new. She wasn’t planning on announcing anything, then just figured she’d do it anyway. She’s pretty good with figuring out how to negate the bad with the good.”

“You can say that again. Why didn’t you buy her flowers?”

“You’re right, I should’ve. I will tomorrow. You just have fun with yours. Get that shower, put new ice on your shoulder. I’ll get started on dinner. And then we can get a little tipsy on champagne.”

“Now that is definitely something I can get behind.” Sonny reaches over for Will’s hand. “Today started off looking pretty bleak, but we’re gonna end it on full stomachs, and a very happy tipsy note.”


	56. Chapter 56

While his bruises start to fade, Sonny talks to the Chicago police, the prosecutor, deals with the reporters from the rival magazines TruVista and Sonix in Salem to reporters in Chicago, Crest Hill, as well as the Associated Press.

The initial case against Stefano DiMera and his daughter in law Sami Brady was huge news back then. The one running now manages to drag it all back out while adding a new spin to it.

Sonny knows Will’s dealing with the reporters too, just like he knows how relieved they both are when it eventually becomes old news, and the reporters leave them alone.

As June turns into July, Sonny finally finishes up his job at Will’s, places the stones between all the guests at Eric’s last riverside cabin, and starts the job at Julie and Bob’s place by the river.

With his crew behind him, and with genuine surprise Will knows how to handle a nail gun, Sonny has his equipment shed under roof, and a nice garden shed, completely stocked, the skeleton of a greenhouse already standing.

Maybe he’d let his house’s interior fall by the wayside for the time being, but Sonny focuses on building up his business, client after client.

He works with two of them on a very beautiful afternoon, while their little girl naps under the porch roof.

“When you’re deadheading,” Sonny demonstrates to Kayla and Steve, “You’re not just cleaning up the plant or the bush, you’re giving new flowers room to grow. See these herbs? Pinch the flowers off.”

“Really? I just thought they were pretty.” Kayla tries to object.

“That means the water’s going to the flower instead of where it’s needed in the vegetation, and when you have a flower, the leaves turn bitter. Pinch the plant back too, so it fills out. See that branch point up there?” Sonny asks, pointing. “Count a few leaves, then pinch the stem off. You’re gonna use it for cooking, so you wanna stimulate it at the same time. That way it’ll grow back even better.”

“We;ve only been taking some off here and there.” Steve explains.

“I can see that.”

Steve studies the leaves with his one good eye, “Is that why they look like this?”

“Yep. Try it my way, and when you hit harvest, you won’t know what to do with it all.”

“When that happens, I’m making you homemade pesto.”

Sonny cocks his head, “I’ll gladly take you up on that.”

Sonny moves with them, giving pointers, happy to see them both taking notes.

“Uh oh. Sleeping Beauty is waking up. I’ll grab her.” Steve puts his notebook under his arm, going to his little girl.

“We really do appreciate you coming here to talk us through all of this again. You’ve all been so helpful.”

“That’s why we’re here.”

“Your bruises are healing nicely. How’s the shoulder?”

“Fine. Now it’s an ugly yellow, maybe slightly stiff when I first wake up, but not lately. And it goes away pretty fast.”

“Another plus to staying active.” Kayla praises. “We were pretty surprised to get an invite for the 4th of July.”

“What? Why? You and Allie are friendly. You’re basically my doctor by now.”

“Now that we know everything that really happened in this house, we thought maybe Allie and her family wouldn’t want a reminder.”

“That had nothing to do with you. Same goes for the house.”

“Everytime I think about how he could’ve easily broken in that night. Our baby. Babies.” she says, hand on her baby bump.

“Don’t waste another second on him. He’s back where he belongs, and he’ll stay there for the rest of his life.”

“That’s what Steve keeps telling me. I keep wondering--if in a safe small town like this, there’s still bound to be trouble. Would you consider teaching self defense?”

“But I don’t think I'm qualified for that.”

Kayla laughs loudly, “Are you serious? Think it over. Maybe during the winter once your business slows down.”

“I’ll think it over if you and Steve think about composting.”

“I know we should do it.” Kayla sighs. “Sounds like another chore.”

“You would be surprised how it comes back as good karma. I gotta go grab Will, and then one more stop. Party planning is practically a full time job. See you on the 4th.”

“Wild horses couldn’t stop us.”

Sonny looks across the street before hopping in the truck. Even though he knows there isn’t anyone in a BMW, he’s not able to kick the habit.

Not yet.

He swings by the Olson/Anderson job to check up on Chad and Ben, then spends another hour working to finish the new stone stairs.

In the water, Julie and Bob swim over. “Beautiful!” Julie calls out. “So beautiful!”

“And completely safe!” Sonny calls back.

“Want us to power up the boat?”

Sonny shakes his head, “If only I could, but I gotta get going. I’m already late. See you on the 4th.”

Sonny turns, spotting Chad walking towards the pier, sitting with his legs dangling over the water.

“What’s with him?” Sonny asks Ben. 

Ben shrugs. “Probably pouting because he has to work.”

“You can clean up and get going now. We can work on the deck on Monday.”

Though he has to roll his eyes, Sonny walks towards the pier, next to Chad.

“Work’s finished for the day. Silly to sulk.”

“I’m not sulking. I just like looking at the water. Not big on being on the ater cause I get a little seasick, which sucks.”

“That does suck.”

“But I still like looking at it. And looking back from here, and seeing all the stuff I helped make happen. They look so damn good.”

Sonny looks back too, “You’re right.”

“I keep sitting here, looking at the water, then back at the steps, and I’ll be damned if I can’t see what you have planned next. I can see it so clearly. If you’d asked me if I could see it not even a year ago, even just a few months ago, I would’ve said I just see something covered in weeds. But now I can see exactly what we’re gonna do.”

Chad bumps Sonny’s shoulder, “And I know how we’re gonna do it, or most of it. So I sit here, taking in the view and the nice breeze, and it just hits me. I actually have a job. Who would’ve thought?”

“You’re strong, Chad. You also have good hands and a really good eye. You’re so much better than you used to be, and you weren’t even that bad to start with. If you ever want to leave and start your own business, you’re going down.”

Chad ducks away, smiling, “I believe you, too. No, I’m just thinking about how I have a job now. I’m making a living on my own skills. And I’m also thinking, believe it or not, I’m gonna ask Abi to marry me.”

“Oh my god, Chad!” Sonny grabs him, hugging him so tightly Chad has to wriggle away. “She’s wonderful.”

“Know what’s even better? She never asked me to be anything but me. She loves me for me. I guess I changed all on my own, so did you, and she still loves me for me.”

“Grab ahold of that and never let it go.”

“I will.”

“Go get cleaned up, get outta here, and go get your girl. See you Monday.”

Sonny punches Chad’s shoulder. “Damnit, I’m late.”

Sonny takes the new stairs, happy with how the stone feels--sturdy--under his shoes, smiling all the way back to Will’s.

He finds Eric and Allie with Will on the patio. “I’m so sorry. Got caught up in work. I’m all ready for a party now. What do you need?”

“They asked me to string up lights.” Will complains. “And they told me I need two more rabies for food, with canopies, no less.”

“We can do that.”

WIll closes his eyes. “And here I was hoping you’d be on my side.”

“We hired a local band.” Eric says decisively.

“Really? That’s awesome.”

“We have outdoor speakers.” Will reminds them. “I got unlimited music.”

“That’s not live.” Allie pats his shoulder. “We’re setting up games for the kids. With prizes.”

“Loving it. Got some wood at my place. Cut a hole dead center, paint it, and boom. Bean bag tossing. We can do a water balloon fight too, even a scavenger hunt. There’s loads we can do.”

“And here I was hoping I could just throw food on the grill, buy some drinks, and grab side dishes.”

The two men and Allie just stare at Will with a pitying look.

“So.” Sonny continues. “I can make a huge salad, if you relieve me of cooking duty, which I think should be better left to the professionals, I’ll take care of the games and prizes.”

“Done. But let me help you with that.” Allie adds. “It’ll be so much fun. And we’ll probably need your help with the lights too.”

“I can pay for the band.”

“Uncle Eric, I can’t let you pay--”

He cuts Will off. “Just because it’s your house, Will, but this whole thing is all of our responsibility. Now like I was saying, people are gonna bring food because it’s tradition, but we can finish up our menu, supply list, then give out tasks.”

Officially outnumbered and outvoted, Will retreats.

After the three most important people in his life stepped all over him, Will sits with Sonny on the patio, considering his beer.

“Remind me what I was thinking again?”

“Best part ever.” Sonny reminds Will.

Will gives a long look back. “Seems to me my idea of a party is nowhere close to what it means to all of you.”

“It’ll be awesome. Can’t have a house, grounds, a killer view and now throw a party here.” Sonny smiles at Will’s wallowing. “How about some more mac and cheese?”

Will gives another long look, thankfully less wallowing. “You mean like last time? From scratch?”

“Sounds to me you need some comfort food.”

“I do. Actually...” Will taps the list. “I need more than that. It wants an appetizer.”

“Two appetizers that never fail are olives straight from a jar or cheese spray on a cracker. If I really wanna make it fancy, I put an olive on top of the cheese spray.”

“We can do better than that.” Will stands, pulling Sonny to his feet.

As Will backs them into the house, Sonny’s smile turns sneaky. “Why do I have a feeling you’re not talking about food?”

“Oh I dunno about that. You’re plenty delicious.”

“Very true.” To prove it, Sonny shifts., backing Will towards the sofa in the living room. “Good thing, too, because dinner’s officially gonna be late.”

Will starts to say the doors are still wide open, but then he’s suddenly on his back on the couch, Sonny straddling him.

A man’s home is his castle, after all.

“Let’s see if making love kills the craving or makes it worse.” With that, Sonny pulls off his shirt.

Before Sonny moves down, Will trails his fingertips over the almost gone bruises. “Sore?”

“Nothing to get upset over.” But because the look in Will’s eyes tell Sonny Will disagrees, Sonny cups Will’s face. “Don’t do that.” he murmurs. “C’mere.”

Sonny kisses Will, taking it nice and deep, still deeper, inch by inch.

Us, Sonny thinks as Will’s hand slides over him. You, me, as the late night breeze slipping over their skin, the light sparkling.

What Sonny had planned as just a quickie suddenly slows down, then loving as they comfort each other.

Even as their hearts pound, they take time to give, let everything spiral as they touch and taste.

Sonny unbuttons Will’s shirt, spreading it open to spread his hands over Will’s chest. Then presses his mouth to Will’s chest.

A beautiful heart, Sonny thinks, so generous and open, despite everything he had every right to let break him. Or maybe even because it broke him. Sonny wants nothing more than to take care of it, help the deeply gutted scars finally heal.

Will rises to meet Sonny, watching Sonny’s eyes as Will slowly, carefully slides Sonny’s undershirt off. Will skims his mouth over Sonny’s bruises. Will, too, is desperate to heal.

Sonny’s so strong, but Will still understands all the hurt Sonny’s still carrying. Will needs to show him, more than anything, Will will always fight to protect Sonny, always stand up for him.

And now, in this perfect moment, Will can give Sonny that peace.

Will cups Sonny’s chest, thumbs lightly brushing over Sonny until those bottomless voids close. Sonny’s body moves against Will’s, slow and torturous, as tall the feeling between them overlap and keep building with every stroke, with every kiss.

Sonny shifts, moaning, as Will slides his clothes off as he pauses to take Sonny’s mouth. Sonny’s breath catches as Sonny takes Will, as their eyes meet, then their lips again.

Will fills him, heart, body, and soul, so wonderfully, Sonny seriously wonders how they’ve both gone this long without it and can still stand it. 

They move together, riding a very slow wave. Giving and taking back in equal reciprocation while the light flickers, the air sweeping over them, hot and sweet.

And holding onto each other so tightly, wrapped up in each other’s eyes, they fall over the edge together.

Tears form in the back of Sonny’s eyes, not really knowing why, so he lowers his head to Will’s shoulder until he can push them back. Sonny tries to think of something lighthearted he can say, but comes up short, so he stays curled up as Will’s hands keep stroking up and down Sonny’s back.

“It’s different.” Will says quietly. “It’s completely different between us.”

When Sonny doesn’t say anything, Will traces a finger over Sonny’s tattoo, thinks of the reason Sonny got it. “Is that scary to think about?”

“Maybe. A little. Yeah. I’ve made so many big mistakes before.”

Will pushes Sonny back enough so Sonny can see the anger in Will’s eyes, with a voice to match. “There’s no mistake here. I’m not Leo.”

“Will, you’re the furthest thing imaginable from Leo. And that, as ridiculous, as it sounds, is what scares the crap out of me.”

To help calm them both down, Sonny rubs a cheek to Will’s face.

“How could I not see he was making it all up? How could I have fallen for a lie like that when I have the real thing right here with me? But I did, and I do.”

“I wish I could say that sounds ridiculous, but it doesn’t, not completely. But you’re here, now. And I’m here. I wasn’t actively seeking you out, seeking us out. But we’re here, Sonny.”

“I like that we’re here.”

“Me too. That’s part of why I have no problem asking you to move in with me.”

“Oh.” Sonny wraps his arms around Will tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Don’t. Not yet. I know it’s more ridiculous. I know exactly how ridiculous, because I think I spend more time here than even you. But for right now, I need my own house. I went straight from living in my family’s mansion, to living with Leo--because that marriage left me no choice--to San Francisco. I just want my own place for a while longer.”

“I can deal with that for now. You seem like the guy who would know when he’s ready to live with someone. It’s still your house. Just like I’m gonna tell you I love you whether you’re ready to hear it or not.”

There Will goes, filling up Sonny’s heart as it pounds. “So much ridiculousness.” he murmurs. “Can I just have more time? I need to feel like I’m standing on my own two feet.”

“Are you serious?” Honestly shocked, Will pulls back again. “I’m not talking about time--we got nothing but--I’m talking about everything else. You’re the most solid and stable person I know.”

“It wasn’t even a year ago when it was a miracle I could even function. We’re getting our lives back, and we’re doing a damn good job too. Let’s just keep moving down that path.”

“I can deal with that.” Lightly, Will trails a hand down Sonny’s back. “Especially since I know you’re gonna eventually say yes.”

“Oh am I?”

“Absolutely. You love me.”

Sonny laughs, pulling away slightly. “I honestly wonder if you ever hear yourself talk.”

“You totally love me.” Will repeats as Sonny reaches for his clothes. “And I won the jackpot with this house. You’re gonna say yes.”

Sonny stands, still holding his clothes, still in the boots Will couldn’t pull off--and the leather bracelet Will gave him. Which only serves to make Will want him all over again.

“This house is a stalemate, I’ll admit that much. Maybe that’s why I’m sleeping with you.”

Will just smiles. “You love me.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’m grabbing a shower.”

“Awesome idea.”

The look in Will’s eyes as he gets up has Sonny backing away.

“I’m just cleaning up. Or do you not want to eat real food?”

The look doesn’t leave Will’s eyes, and Sonny finds himself laughing as Sonny makes a run for it.

Will grabs him halfway up the stairs.

Dinner’s gonna have to be put on the back burner.


	57. Chapter 57

Sonny squeezes in most of a day’s work before the afternoon storms thunder over the mountains. Rain means moving inside, for personal work, from outdoors, with the clients.

After going over to the hardware store for paint.

He decided to go bright and cheery with a soft mint green walls, and white shelves and cabinets.

Having to accept he’s not much of a handyman, he hires a local to replace the abominations that are the countertops, opting for gray against the other colors.

Eventually, Sonny promises himself, he will replace the ugly flooring too. But when he lets himself walk inside the kitchen, inside from the rain, he can look around and find genuine pleasure.

He finds a cute set at the flea market right outside town, painted it the same white as the cabinets with some mint green trim. All the color after a dreary day screams cool and clean.

He pulls off his wet hoodie, hanging it on one of the decorative key hooks he’d installed in the wall, then takes off his boots.

His herb garden--mostly for looks and smells instead of any actual cooking--sit in their little pots over the sink. After doing a soil test, he waters them all.

He starts to grab a Dr. Pepper out of the fridge, stops himself, frowning. He swears he had four bottles in there, but there’s only three next to the milk.

Shrugging, he takes out his phone, adding Dr. Pepper to his shopping list.

After sticking the bottle in the pocket of his cargo pants, he carries the paint and primer into the living room. Or what’s going to be the living room, if he has anything to say about it.

Right now it’s just a storage for paint and supplies for painting, tools, planters and other garden accessories he’d bought on sale, organized by category.

He grabs the painter’s tape, a tarp, then stands, baffled.

Why the hell did he put the fairy statue--one he plans to put in a garden in the spring--in the paint supplies? And why the hell is the wind chime, boxed and all, with the tools?

More pissed off at himself than disturbed by this, he puts them back where they belong, then takes both the tarp and tape upstairs.

He still has to deal with the narrow hallway, but his bedroom, same as the kitchen, it on the more than acceptable side of the scale.

He’d picked a soft gray with an eggshell trim. Still no bed, he thinks, but the duvet and pillows make it look lived in, inviting even.

Sooner or later he’ll paint the dresser, but he’d really hit the jackpot with the mirror with the elaborate frame.

Maybe a rug, and he’ll get there, but he loves the triptych he hung on the wall.

He steps inside the miniscule bathroom. Once he’d murdered and stripped off the fishy wallpaper, he’d found ugly white walls in their place. He’s going to use the palest of the palest blues, on walls and the ceiling, using the same trim as in the bedroom.

Once he tapes the trim, he places the tarp all over the room. Rain pounding, the occasional flash of lightning and thunder booming, he pulls out what he lovingly calls his paint clothes.

As he gets changed, he recalls his painting music. Some classic rock, something with a good beat.

He opens the top drawer to grab an apron to protect his clothes.

And freezes.

“That’s wrong.” he murmurs, taking a few breaths. “That’s completely wrong.”

He slowly and carefully backs away from the dresser, heart pounding, body tense, forcing open the closet door.

Just clothes, he notes as he hears his pulse pounding in his ears, almost as loud as the thunder outside.

But wrong. Somehow wrong.

He pulls his keys out of his pocket, slips one off, sharp end out, between his clenched fist, and searches the house.

When he’s done, now convinced he’s alone, he pulls out his phone.

“Hope, it’s Sonny. I think someone broke into my house. Yeah, I’m here. No, I just did a search. There’s no one, but--thanks. Yeah, thank you.”

He slips his phone back in his pocket, and while he waits for the cops, starts a more thorough search.

Hope’s there in minutes, but there’s already a list in Sonny’s mind as he lets her in with the rain hitting her back.

“Thank you for coming so fast.”

“It’s our job. Any signs of a break in?”

“Not that I saw.”

“I look around for myself.” Standing on the indoor mat, her jacket dripping, she scans the living room. “How do you know for sure someone’s been in here?”

“This is going to sound really ridiculous, but...well, let’s start in here. Right now it’s just a storage area. I categorized everything.”

“I can tell just by looking at it. You’re a bit of a neat freak, aren’t you, Sonny?”

“That, and a whiz with time management. If everything's in its place, you don’t have to waste time looking. But some of the things I put in there weren’t where they’re supposed to be. I just got home to paint the bathroom walls, so I grabbed the tarp and tape, before I came back for the roller and pan. And a few garden things were with the paint stuff. I wouldn’t do that. I know it sounds like an honest mistake that could happen to anyone, and I brushed it off as such, but then...”

He hears it himself, how nervous he is, so he works to stay calm. “When I went to look again, I also noticed there were a few tools with the garden stuff. And see that box there? I know I never opened that--its supposed to be the shower curtain and everything else once I finish the bathroom. I never opened it, but now it is.”

“Alright, Sonny. Was there anything missing?”

“A Dr. Pepper. I know how that sounds too, but I know there was four in there, but now there’s three.”

“And the one in your pocket?” Hope points out.

“This is one of the three.” Pulling it out, he twists off the cap, then back on to keep himself from fidgeting. “Hope, anytime I’m lower than four, I put it on the list. It’s a force of habit. I waved that off too. And then I got upstairs...”

Shoving the drink back in his pocket, he takes a breath. “Let me just show you instead.”

As they make their way upstairs, Sonny continues, “I wanted to have an apron to be doubly protected from paint. But right as I opened the drawer...”

He gestures to the still open drawer. “Look, I keep my socks, underwear, and aprons in there.”

Hope walks over, looks in, “That’s all I see.”

“I have eight pairs of underwear, eight undershirts, eight dress shirts, eight pairs of work socks, eight pairs of regular ones, and eight aprons. I only do laundry once a week, and the spares are for whenever I miss a laundry day. One of everything’s in my truck, just in case. I have two of everything at Will’s. Except for the dress shirts, because I almost never use them.”

“Okay, I’m with you so far.”

“Right now, I’m wearing underwear, an undershirt, and work socks. There’s supposed to be four of each in there. Nothing in the hamper besides today’s work pants and t-shirt. There’s only three pairs of underwear, and everything that is in there isn’t folded how I prefer to do it.”

Hope nods, looking at Sonny. “Is that all?”

“In the closet. It’s all there, but stuff’s been moved around, like someone was looking through it. There’s a box in the shelf there. Some stuff from my mom’s stuff. Nothing really valuable, just some keepsakes. Her jewelry, a pearl necklace my dad gave her, sympathy cards people gave me when she died. It’s all still in there, but someone looked through it.”

And Jesus, that’s more upsetting than anything else. His mom’s stuff touched by an intruder.

“Is there any money stashed in here?”

“Huh? Unfortunately, yes. There’s two hundred in fives, tens, and twenties in the nightstand. Now it’s at a hundred. Why only half, instead of all of it?”

“Thinking you wouldn’t notice, is my guess.”

Relief floods through Sonny. She believes him.

“They went through my medicine cabinet. Just over the counter stuff, but it’s been moved around.”

“Is this place usually locked?”

“Yes. Another habit. I came in through the back, through the kitchen. I used my own key.”

“When’s the last time you came back here?”

“I wasn’t here at all yesterday, but I did come here for a while after work. In and out. I wanted more plywood for the beanbag toss we got set up at Will’s, and I have this bird feeder I wanted to use for a job--so I came in to grab that. I would’ve noticed, I’m almost positive I would’ve noticed of things were different.”

“Alright, I’ll look closer at your doors and windows.”

“Thank you.”

He goes with her, looking behind her shoulder when she opens the front door, studying it. “See the scratches here?”

“I do now.”

“A credit card could easily do that. Not much of a lock.”

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ I’m gonna get better ones. A hundred dollars and a pair of boxers? There’s tools over there worth way more than a hundred, and the small TV in the kitchen? You could easily carry that with one arm.”

“Could just be kids.”

Sonny feels the relief flood through him again, then feels it evaporate. “You don’t really believe that. If it was just a kid, they would’ve taken all of it. They never would’ve been this careful.”

Hope lets that sink in. “I’m gonna take a thorough look outside. And we'll see about getting prints off the door, and other surfaces. Are you planning on staying here tonight?”

“Not anymore. I can paint the bathroom another time.”

“We’re doing at least three drive bys for the next few days or so. And my ears are gonna be wide open.”

Not one print, Sonny thinks later as he drives through the rain. Not even on the door handle, or the ransacked drawers. He doesn’t need Hope to tell him whoever did this most likely wore gloves, and took extra care to wipe everything down.

Pretty calculating for someone who only took half the money and a pair of boxers. And just a little disturbing.

He can’t even bring himself to be really angry, or scared. What he does feel is disappointed that his hometown, who’d welcomed him back with open arms, is home to someone who would invade his house, his privacy.

Over absolutely nothing.

He drives along the river, dull and gloomy behind the pouring rain. The sky chokes the mountains, dulling the view.

Appropriate, he supposes, considering his mood.

He reminds himself to not be stupid. Every town has a dark side, with secrets they never want to see the light of day. Salem even used to be a sundown town, way back when.

And that’s not even mentioning how it used to house the two biggest abusers the town’s ever seen.

Caught in the undertow, he reminds himself.

And yet, one slightly disturbing burglary can’t and won’t overshadow everything else.

He also has to remind himself to be glad he has his own sanctuary at Will’s place, he has friends, people he’d trust in a heartbeat.

When he turns up Will’s road, he feels fairly optimistic, something he hasn’t been in a while. The lights on the walls glow against the gloomy sky, shining with warmth. The lights he’d installed to show off the stream is quiet and steady.

Whatever’s under the surface, Sonny can handle it. And he’ll keep going.

More relaxed, he takes his boots off on the covered balcony, unlocking the door, resetting the alarm. After carrying his boots into the mudroom, stripping of his hoodie, he starts to pour himself a glass of wine.

Then in the quiet and empty house, he sits at the counter with his computer to look up locksmiths. Though his optimistic side hates that he’s doing this, his practical side looks up security systems too.

The rain covers the sound of Will pulling up, nor does Sonny hear the door open and shut, so he jumps when he hears footsteps, swiveling to jump up.

“Damnit, damnit, damnit.” Slapping a hand over his chest, Sonny relaxes. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Last I checked, I’m the one that actually lives here.”

“You’re also the one that’s supposed to be having dinner with T and Kaye.”

WIll walks over to Sonny, brushing a hand over Sonny’s hair, kissing him. “You’re also supposed to be the one painting your bathroom. But that obviously wasn’t gonna happen.”

Sliding his hands down to Sonny’s shoulders, he rubs them gently. “You okay?”

“Is it safe to assume you heard about the guy that stole my underwear?”

Now those same hands are shaking Sonny, “Don’t try and pretend you’re not upset.”

“I never said I wasn’t. Who wants to think about someone breaking into your personal space, meeting around with your stuff? But that’s exactly what happened, and after I take the obvious first step of shutting the door after he’s already gone, I’m calling for a lock change, and looking into a security system.”

Sonny pats the hand still resting on his shoulder, hoping to calm some of the anger in Will’s eyes. “You really didn’t have to change your plans.”

“Of course I did. What kind of guy would just sit back drinking a beer over wings after their boyfriend’s had someone break into his house?” Now Will cups Sonny’s face, “Please don’t.”

“The last thing I ever wanted to be was needy.”

Will lets out a halfhearted laugh, walking over to grab his own glass and join Sonny.

“You’re anything but needy. In fact, I’d say you could stand to be a little needy.”

“That exact neediness is how I wound up with Leo.”

Will sits, considering Sonny. “Is that what you actually think?”

“That’s what I know. My closeted boyfriend dumps me, and my mom passes away. And even before all that happens, I still want, more than anything, someone to love me unconditionally, a guy who’s always gonna be there, stick by me. For better or worse. He knew this, used it to his advantage, and, well, you saw how that played out. Maybe I’m overcompensating,” Sonny admits. “I’m still working on the right blend.”

“Wanting to be loved by someone, stood by, and stay isn’t being needy, Sonny. It’s being human. I’m still here, standing right next to you.”

“I know.” Sonny really does, and it makes his throat hurt. “And under all the ‘fine’s, I’m ridiculously happy you are. I mean, who in their right minds steals plain cotton boxers? They’re not even sexy.”

“I beg to differ. You pull them off ridiculously well whenever you wear them. So that and the house cash?”

“Boxers, a hundred dollars, and a bottle of Dr. Pepper. My guess is they were taken because they look unnoticeable. Even the cash you could argue was just absentmindedness. It’s disturbing and unsettling, but still relatively harmless. Right now I’m more pissed because I don’t feel comfortable staying to paint the bathroom.”

“We can do that tomorrow after work.”

“It’s the third tomorrow. It’s supposed to be party prep.”

“It’s just 20 square feet. How long could that possibly take? We can double the prep to make up for it.”

Will keeps him anchored, Sonny realizes, in a way Sonny never really realized he was ready to be anchored.

“Let’s start right now, with your list. Did you rent more tables and chairs?”

In a second, Will’s back to sulking, which Sonny finds adorable.

“I bought them myself, thank you very much. T and I are supposed to grab them tomorrow. We’re having burgers.” Will decides, standing up to turn the oven on.

“You actually bought them?”

“Don’t play dumb with an investigative journalist. We all see it. You and every other Horton in town decided this party’s going to be every year, so I bought the damn tables and chairs, which now I get to drag in and out of storage every year from here to eternity.”

Will pours some more wine. “And let’s not forget the stupid red white and blue tablecloths Allie decided we just had to have, with same colored plates, napkins, cups, plasticware, and some really stupid centerpieces. And the lights, the lanterns, and God help me, ordering enough burgers, hot dogs, buns, beer wine, soda to feed a whole army. Not to mention the trash bags to toss everything once it’s all finished.”

Sonny sips his wine, smiling when Will grabs the burger patties out of the freezer. “There’s no way you personally bought all that.”

“Personally, only some, but I did pay for everything.”

“Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

“One momentary lapse in judgement, and now I’m throwing an outlandish party every single 4th of July to kingdom come.”

“So it’s not the best time to tell you about moving the Horton tree trimming to your house every year from now on too?”

Will narrows his eyes, “Why would I do that?”

Sonny stands, wrapping his arms around Will.

“That’s not gonna work.”

“That’s not what it’s for--I got ways of making it work. This is a thank you for being here when I really didn’t need it.”

“Don’t you forget it either.” Will replies, brushing his lips over Sonny’s hair. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re not thinking about boxers stealing freaks, or ridiculous parties. We’re eating burgers, drinking wine, then heating up popcorn, drink some more wine, watch a movie. Then we’re gonna take it to the bedroom.”

“What’re we doing in the bedroom? I think we have very different ideas.”

“Whaddaya say to finding out?”


	58. Chapter 58

Will winds up thinking about creeps anyway, long with how cut off and exposed Sonny’s house is. Will thinks about it so much, he leaves literally right after Sonny in the morning to drive ovr and catch Hope.

“Breakfast?” Hope asks him. “I got Eric to crack and had him make us waffles.”

“You’d be an idiot to turn down Uncle Eric’s waffles.” Will says, hugging Eric.

“Lucky you.” Eric returns the hug, before giving Tucker a belly rub. “Ciara already left, and Shawn’s still asleep. You’re early.”

“New habit. Sonny’s the early bird.” Feeling at home, Will pours himself some coffee, grabs his own plate, then sits with Hope.

“I’m guessing you’re here to ask about anything new about the break in?”

“All things considered, I’d be surprised if you did have anything new on that.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t take a genius to know Sonny’s hardly there, and his locks are crap.”

Will kicks himself for not even thinking about either of those things before coming over here.

“He’s already working on that, and he’s talking to T about a security system.”

“Glad to hear that.”

Hope brings a plate of waffles over to them, sitting down.

Now that everyone’s settled, Tucker curls up underneath to join them.

“How is Sonny, anyway?” Hope asks.

“To me he’s not angry enough. I’m just shocked at the absurdity of it all.”

Hope drenches her waffle in syrup. “If it wasn’t for the door, the wiped down drawers, with zero prints, I’d agree with you. Now it might just be some random punk teenager who watches enough crime dramas to know not to leave evidence behind, but I can’t help but think a punk teenager wouldn’t leave half the money.”

Hope points with her fork, “That was smart. Most would look at that and say, I swear I had more money, then just chalk it up to forgetting. And who would even think to memorize exactly how much underwear they have, or drinks, or everything else.”

“Sonny does.” Will says. “That’s how he functions.”

“I understand that. So the natural assumption would be some punk chasing a high. But that doesn’t sit right with me. I want him with that security system pronto. I’d feel so much better knowing if someone tries to break while he’s there, they’d be in for a real shock.”

“Problem is once his head hits the pillow, he’s dead to the world. I’m not even joking.”

Hope smiles. “Oh yeah?”

“First or second time I legit checked to make sure he was breathing. When he’s asleep, he’s asleep. A literal bomb could go off and he wouldn’t move.”

“Then he really should stay with you, at the very least until Hope figures it out, and the locks and security system.” The worry lines on Eric’s face stick out. “I really hate thinking of him all alone after what happened.”

“Me neither. I actually asked him to move in right before it happened. He’s not ready.”

“You...” Eric sets his fork down. “That’s huge, Will. A very big step for you, but apparently you think you’re ready.”

“I know, what a shock. I am.”

“Ask him again.”

Will shakes his head. “Sonny’s not ready. He’s got so many more issues than even he knows.”

Hope pokes her fork at Will. “So what’re you gonna do?”

“Wait until he actually is ready. And maybe nudge him a little. He can stay with me until his house is safe again. He knows he can handle himself, but he’s not an idiot. And he’ll want it secure when he comes around to wanting to move in anyway. He’s gonna want to keep the house and the land.”

“Another kind of security, I take it?” Uncle Eric asks.

“Maybe for a little while, but mostly because it belongs to him, and he can store his equipment there, hold meetings, do stuff with plants.”

Reaching over, Hope squeezes his hand. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

“You mean have I been thinking about Sonny a lot? Sonny’s the man I want to be with. I can wait him out until he knows I’m the same for him.”

Will shrugs, flashing a fast smile. “Because I know I am.”

Once Sonny’s crew is all set for the morning, Sonny goes back to his house to meet the locksmith, as well as consult with T.

Peter Blake, the locksmith, turns out to be Chad’s adopted half-brother.

“Looks like Chad really likes working for you. Apparently not working after stepping down from DiMera Enterprises didn’t sit too well with him.”

“I’m really happy to hear that. I know how lucky I am to have picked him up.”

“He’s the strong silent type, so when he says you’re a good guy, you’d be smart to take that seriously. Madeline--that’s Chad’s mom--had no idea how he’d take to adjusting from being the boss to taking orders from one, especially one so young, not to mention gay. But he’s pleased as anything.”

“I’ll call that good. I’m hoping to be getting older, but the gay thing’s here to say.”

Peter laughs, patting Sonny on the back.

“You know I mean nothing by that. So, apparently you’ve been having some trouble.”

“Someone broke in. Didn’t steal anything huge or do any real damage, but I need way better locks.”

“You made the right call, Mr. Kiriakis.”

“Please, call me Sonny.”

“Still the right call. I can and will fix this up for you--you being young, gay, and such a good boss to my adopted half brother Chad, I could kick this door in without even breaking a sweat.”

“Thought of that too.” Sonny lets out a breath. “I’m thinking about replacing the front and the back, come wintertime, but right now what I need is some seriously solid locks. And I have Tad Stevens on his way to talk to me about installing a security system.”

“There’s that good guy I’ve been hearing about. T knows what he’s doing, even if he uses words that amount to a bunch of gibberish half the time. You’re pretty cut off over here.” he adds as he looks. “Though rumor has it you can take care of yourself easily. Heard you’re gonna be teaching krav maga over at the Horton Center.”

“Well, I haven’t--”

“I’d definitely sign up. I’m no pushover, but learning some real self defense would be seriously helpful. You never know with my job. And my niece, Grace? Just got her real estate license, and she’s working with Susie. You already know Susie.”

“That I do. She’s the one that got me the place.”

“Well, Grace is barely a young adult, and plenty of guys are already ogling her. I wouldn’t worry as much if she knew how to defend herself.”

When Sonny finally gets Peter back on the locks, they finally reach an agreement on dead locks, on front and back doors. Then T shows up, and that sets off a completely different conversation.

Thinking of all the work he still has to do, Sonny manages to get T inside when Peter starts up the drill.

“Okay, so I’m thinking of the basic alarm deal. Something to warn anyone who tries to not come in.”

“That I could do.” T scratches his face. “And Will would murder me in my sleep. He’s really freaking out, Sonny, so give him a break.” He holds up his hands before Sonny can argue. “First that DiMera bastard attacks you, and then another jerk decides to break into your house. I think he deserves a break, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Instead I’m gonna do a little compromise.” T throws in an award winning smile. “That’s life, isn’t it? My best friend Will, he wants your place to have the works, video surveillance, motion detectors--”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Hey, I get it. You just want to scare them off. I’m just saying find a way where everyone wins. I’ll do the noise--someone has to mess with the locks or break a window, tries to break the door down, alarm goes crazy. According to Will, when you sleep, you might not wake up even if it goes off.”

“I don’t sleep that soundly. I...shit. Maybe, or not.”

“So I add a few fixings. I fix it so the alarm makes the lights flash. House lights all up. And the alarm goes straight to Hope’s phone.”

“I’m really not comfortable with bothering Hope--”

“Meet in the middle. Word’s gonna spread that you have a security system--in fact that’s a guarantee because I’m gonna be bragging about it nonstop. I really don’t see anyone getting in again. So it’s time to meet in the middle. Or, you get to deal with Will all over your ass until you give in anyway to shut him up. Journalists, am I right? They’re relentless when they think there’s a story.”

Sonny rolls his eyes. “I want a drink. Let’s go get one.”

Sonny walks back to the kitchen, opening the fridge.

“Looking good. Jesus, if you don’t wake up because of the colors in here, you’re not gonna wake up at all. I like it.”

“Same.” Sonny hands him a Dr. Pepper, calculating the figure for the basic system he’d been wanting. Now he studies T as he chugs the Dr. Pepper. “So what does the estimate for meeting in the middle look like?”

When T gives the price, Sonny sighs. “T, that’s for the basic deal. Be serious.”

“Family and friends discount. That’s how it works. Plus, I want that tree you got for Will’s office. I think it’s cool. Gabi’s gonna make a nice pot.”

Sonny takes another breath. “Guess we have a deal.”

“Nice.” They share a fist bump. “Know what else I’d do, if it were me?”

“Hm?”

“Ever thought about getting a dog?”

Sonny stares at him. “Yes I have! But with my business, and spending all my time at Will’s...”

“We had one when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure Will loved it more than me, and we all went nuts for it. He wanted a dog, but that was a resounding no, so he was famous for coming over to our place to hang with our dog as much as me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“After coming back, he made a few noises about getting one, but because he’s usually gone all day, it wouldn’t be fair. If you get one? Sounds like more meeting in the middle. And I just happen to know someone who’s an animal foster parent.”

With another award winning smile, T drains his Dr. Pepper.


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only short because a bigger one is coming up after it. But I hope you enjoy the little buddy I just added to the story!

Will drives up the winding road that takes him home, deciding he’s entitled to a very stiff drink, considering not just his day, but the night ahead of him that he has no choice but to spend on party prep.

Even as he makes the final turn, the loud barking tears through the silence. Something comes bounding around from behind the house, a blur that’s small and white.

And teeth, Will sees as it has them bared when Will parks.

He takes a long look from the safety of his car, as Sonny comes around.

“Benji! Stop.” And claps his hands.

The thing that could be mistaken for a realistic stuffed animal stops yipping, looking back at Sonny.

“Sit.” Sonny orders, and it does, wagging his tail. When he leans down to pet him, it stares up at him with the most adorable eyes, filled with adoration.

“That’s a dog, right?” Will asks as he--slowly--gets out of the car.

“Yep. He’s all bark no bite. Just warning me someone just showed up. I didn’t mean to,” Sonny says hurriedly. “I swear on my life I was just going to look, then depending on what I saw, we’d talk about it. Then he just--damnit.”

“You’re sure that’s a dog, not a taxidermied animal?”

“Of course I’m sure. He’s Benji.”

“After the famous movie dog, Benji?”

“He came already named. If you really wanna blame someone, blame T.”

“Okay.” Crouching down, Will takes a better look. The furry face is all white, like his tail. The rest of him, can’t even be 7 pounds, is also white. The tiny eyes shine like black pearls.

“What a dog.”

“I know. I thought, dog that barks, another security measure, and I was actually thinking about getting one once I had time to train. One that could be trained from the get go to not dig up gardens or run away. Then T went and brought up the dog thing, and how he knew someone who was a foster parent. I was only gonna check it out, I swear.”

“Benji.” Looking at the dog, Will pats the ground. The dog walks over immediately, licking his hand with his tiny tongue. “A security measure, you say?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, like you’ve been able to see for yourself how he barks like crazy--but stops when you tell him to. That’s the key. And he never bites, so good with kids.”

As Will scratches Benji’s ears, the dog whimpers like he’s in ecstasy. Those small eyes shine again as he rests his head on Will’s knee.

“See what I mean? That’s exactly what he does. Looks at you like he adores you. And apparently he’s never dug up anyone’s garden. House trained, good with other dogs and people. Tries herding them, actually, but he’s really sweet about it. Loves riding in the truck, which is another requirement for me, because he’s gonna be coming to work with me. He did so well when I took him on the job today--and I know I should’ve talked to you first.”

“We were forbidden to have pets as kids.”

“T told me.”

“Couldn’t get a dog in Chicago either, living in a condo, living more at my office than at my own place. I just figured when I finally did get one, maybe just a retriever. You know what i mean.” Will stretches out his arms. “A dog.”

After rubbing down the body, which rewards him with more happy whimpers, Will stands. “Benji.” Will mutters, which succeeds in getting more tail wagging.

“His last owners only had him a few months. They just decided they weren’t as ready for a dog as they thought. He was barely a year old, so he was sent to the pound. He was about to be, you know, euthanized, when he was rescued. That’s what they do. I’ll do all the work whenever I’m here.”

Benji sits down, rolling onto his back on the grass.

“Why don’t I get to have some fun?”

“So you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be? He’s what any little kid would mistake for their stuffed animal. Which I love about him.” Will bends over, rubbing the fluffy head.

Laughing, Sonny wraps his arms around Will, with the dog getting in between them, Benji lifting his head, letting out a shrill howl.

“What kind of dog is he anyway?”

“They weren’t sure. All I was doing was showing him around, checking out the woods for places to do his business.”

“Nice idea. Let’s have a drink and walk the dog together.”

“He has a small quirk,” Sonny warns as they walk back around the house with Benji in between.

Amused by this, Will watches the dog do what can only be described as a little skip. “Dude, he is a quirk.”

“Any piece of clothing on the floor, he just has to take for himself. He doesn’t chew or anything, just drags them all the way to his dog bed. He likes sleeping with a sock or t-shirt that smells like someone. He’ll even jump in the hamper and pull something out if he’s able. If you try taking it back before he wakes up, he’ll just whimper and flash you those eyes until you give it back.”

“That I can handle.” Will looks down at Sonny, as well as the dog in between them, feeling pretty good about it. “Is that all?”

“Well, whatever you do, don’t ever say t-r-e-a-t unless you have one on you, because he’s smart enough to know what the word means.”

“We have any?”

“I got a bag. I got one or two in my pocket in case I need to redirect him away from the lawn into the woods.”

“Alright. Treat.”

For a second, Benji freezes--the world's most perfect stuffed dog--then to Will’s complete amusement, jumps about a foot in the air like a dog on a pogo stick, eyes wide with excitement. When he sees no treat, he keeps jumping, managing the most ungraceful flip in the air Will’s ever seen.

“Show dog. Let him have it.”

Sonny tosses one over, Benji snatching it up, running around in circles, then snarfs it down.

“He’s adorable.” Will decides, putting an arm around Sonny’s shoulders. “And entertaining to boot.”

It’s the boy in the man’s body that decides to reach into Sonny’s pockets, grinning as he calls out, “Treat!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right, I added their very own Benji into it! I should note here that I don't know anything about Freddie's Benji, just used the name as a cute little reference. Hope you enjoyed it!


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: descriptions of domestic violence and sexual abuse.

Just after the sun came up, with party planning ahead of him, Sonny heads out to the job site. In a few hours, he calculates, most of the work will be finished ahead of schedule, giving his dog more on the job experience, and get himself back to Will with plenty of time to set up for tonight’s party.

Benji sits beside him in the truck, his fluffy ears flapping in the air from the rolled down windows. As Sonny turns away from town, taking the quiet road beyond the river that goes all the way into the hills, Sonny decides he and Benji are pretty lucky to have each other.

They’re both exactly where they belong.

Behind them, the sun keeps rising, giving light on what’s promising to be a perfect summer day.

“So many kids, Benji, and dogs. This 4th of July is gonna be one none of us will never for--”

Sonny slams on the brakes abruptly, Benji yelping in surprise, as Sonny manages to swing over to the side of the road. He sees the woman, bruises all over her face, running into the trees, limping as the truck approaches.

“Wait,” Sonny says as much to Benji as the woman, humping out of the truck. “I’m not gonna hurt you! I can see you need help. I can see you’re really hurt.” Fighting against his own instinct to charge forward, Sonny stays next to his truck.

Sonny only catches a glimpse, but it was enough to catch the fear in the bruised and swollen eyes.

“Let me help you. I’ll take you anywhere you tell me. I’m Sonny. Someone hurt me too, and I needed help, just like you. Let me do the same for you now.”

Sonny hears the rustling, forcing himself to not move, “Or I can call someone else. Whoever you want, and stay until they show up.”

Sonny catches another glimpse--a very thin face, covered in bruises, long copper hair. “I can’t go that way. I’ll be seen.”

“I can turn around and go the other way. Wherever you wanna go. Would it help if I turn it around right now? So we can go in the right direction? You’re obviously hurt. I’m not gonna leave you here by yourself. I’m just turning around, okay?”

Heart pounding, Sonny gets back in the truck.

Stay there, he thinks, please just stay there, as he turns the truck around, slowly and carefully.

“I don’t know you.”

“I’m Jackson. Jackson Kiriakis, but you can call me Sonny. I moved back to Salem this past February. I can call someone and wait here with you if you don’t want me to drive you.”

She comes out cautiously, bruised eyes tracking from Sonny to the dog.

“His name’s Benji. Very friendly. He won’t hurt you.”

To make sure he doesn’t bark, Sonny pets him while the battered woman’s eyes look back up the road. Limping, she somehow dashes to the truck, forcing herself inside.

“Can you get away from here?” The words come out in one long string. “Just drive?”

“Okay.” Nice and easy, Sonny thinks. Nice, easy, relaxed. “I’ll take you to the clinic.” Sonny starts as they drive away. “Or call the police, or--”

“No, no!”

“Okay, okay. Not going anywhere you don’t wanna go. You have family?”

“I can’t see them. They’re looking for me there.”

“Okay.” As Sonny speaks, voice soft, Benji licks one of the woman’s saking hands, then lays his head in her lap.

She starts weeping.

“You can always go home with me, or...”

With the same shaking hand, the woman reaches for something in her pocket, pulling out a crumpled business card. “Do you know where this is? Where he lives?”

When he skims the card, Sonny lets out a breath. “Are you Melanie? Melanie Jonas? Don’t be scared,” he says quickly when the woman grabs the door handle like she might bolt. “I know Will. He’s a friend. He told me how worried he was about you, and why. I know where he loves. He’s--we’re--” How is he supposed to say it?

“We’re together. He’s not going to let anything happen to you.”

Melanie gathers up Benji in her arms, rocking back and forth, clinging to him, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You’re already doing it. You’re getting help.”

“If they find me… Don’t turn here!” Panic laces her tone. “Not this way.”

“This is where Will lives. He’s not in the Square right now. Too early, and because it’s a holiday he’s still at home. I just came down from there. He’s home right now. It’s okay. No one will hurt you.”

Reassure, connect, take it slow, Sonny tells himself.

“I’ve already met Max and Chelsea. They’re so nice.”

“He threatened to hurt them, and kill us all if I tried going to them. He’d kill them.”

“We’re not letting that happen, Melanie. We’re gonna stop him. See that? That’s Will’s car. We’re going inside, then tell him everything.”

Squeezing the dog tighter, Melanie darts her gaze to behind the truck. “Nick will kill him if he finds me here.”

“It’s okay. No one knows you’re here. We’re going inside,” Sonyn says after parking. “Then we’re gonna figure out the best thing for you.”

He gets out, hurrying around to help Melanie out of the truck. “Will might not be awake yet, but I got a key. I’m here sometimes.”

With Benji leading the way, Sonny guides Melanie to the front door, unlocking it, deals with the alarm.

“That was fast.” Wearing only cotton pants and holding a coffee mug, Will wanders out of the kitchen. 

“Jesus. Melanie.” Will rushes forward, slowing down when she cringes against Sonny’s arm.

Will’s all gentle as he says, “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay. Let’s bring you back, get some water for you. Maybe coffee too.”

Will walks ahead of them. Not only has he survived physical abuse, but had exposed abusers in the paper, with interviews from their victims. There’s a chance she won’t want a man she knows to touch her right now.

Relieved Sonny understands that, Will splits to grab the water, a T-shirt out of the mudroom while Sonny guides Melanie to the sofa in the big living room.

Benji, all about love, lays his head on the sofa next to Melanie’s leg.

“He’s such a good dog.”

“He truly is. Want some coffee?”

“Just water. Thanks. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“We’re still figuring that out.” Will tells her as he offers her the water, along with an ice pack. "Where else does it hurt, Melanie?"

"He always hit me in the stomach, and whenever I fell, I hit my knee. It hurts, and my arm where he grabbed me. He was so mad last night. He got drunk and got really mad at me. Didn't like what I made for our dinner, and his family told him I was only in the garden for an hour. They were all watching me."

Even as she holds the glass with both hands, they still shake as she sips slowly.

"Called me lazy and no good, and beat the crap out of me. I honestly thought he was gonna kill me this time. Made me have sex with him and it hurt so bad, everything did, and he hit me again because I was bad in bed and I was just a c-cunt."

When fresh tears fall, Sonny puts an arm around her.

"I promised myself if I didn't die, I'd get the hell out."

"Is he home right now?"

Melanie lifts her bruised eyes to Will, shaking her head.

"There's no way I could've taken off if he was. Left early to go off on his own. If I'm not in the garden in an hour or so, or hanging laundry, someone in his family's gonna come looking for me. They're all watching me from their homes, they'll tell him if I don't do what I'm told, or if I talk."

"They saw you coming." She tells Will as the tears fall again. "But he wasn't that mad because I made you leave pretty fast. Only slapped me once or twice."

"I'm so sorry, Melanie. I really am sorry for that. We're helping you now. We'll see to it he never hurts you again, but there's a couple things you're gonna need to do. We need you to press charges."

She drops her head, shoulders bowed. "He threatened to kill me if I even tried, and no one would ever believe a lying cunt. And if they did, they'd kill my brother and sister-in-law."

"We're not letting that happen. We need a doctor to examine you."

"No, I can't! He’s crazy! He’ll do what he did when I fell down the stairs and lost our baby. He hit me and fell. He went ballistic at just the thought of me seeing the doctor."

Sonny and Will share a look.

“What if we brought one here?” Sonny keeps his arm around her. “A woman doctor. She’s family. And you know Police Commissioner Hope, Melanie. She’s a good woman that wants to help you. And she will, if you tell her what happened last night, and when you lost the baby.”

“I lied to her last time. I had no choice!”

“None of that matters.” Will tells her.

“I just have to get away from here. If I can just get as far as I can, he can’t find me.”

Where would you go? Sonny thinks. What would you do?

“I married a guy who hurt me just like you.” Sonny pauses here so Melanie can meet his eyes. “If I hadn’t reached out, if my support system wasn’t there when I needed them the most, he would’ve gotten away with so much more than he already had. I was terrified. But I did get help. And the cops put him away so he can’t hurt me or anyone else ever again.”

“What did you do to make him hurt you?”

“Not a thing. Same as you. Guys like that do it because they think they can, not because they were provoked.”

“Why did you reach out to me, Melanie?”

At Will’s question, she bows her head, nervousness making her hands tug at her skirt.

“Nick swore up and down how it was all bullshit about your step grandfather beat the crap out of you when you were a kid, but Max said it was true. He wouldn’t lie to me. Nick does. I know Sonny’s dad can help me with a restraining order, but I have to get the hell away from here.”

“There’s safe places that aren’t that far away. My sister Allie works with people who need safety. We can put you in a shelter. Sonny’s dad can get you a restraining order, and push up the process of getting you into that shelter. Sonny’s dad can help you get a restraining order going.”

“I don’t have any money. Maybe Max--”

“No need. Talk to the police commissioner, tell her everything. Tell her what happened last time. When you were pregnant.”

“He threatened to kill me and my family if I even tried.”

“Tell Police Commissioner Hope that. Tell her all of it, and I’ll call Sonny’s dad to be right next to you the whole time, as your lawyer, alright? Let the doctor examine you, so she can tell Hope about how bad the damage is.”

“If I do this, you can keep my family safe?”

“We’ll see to it.”

“I’ll call the doctor, Melanie, and your adopted brother. We’ll bring them both here.”

Melanie freezes, hands going limp. “My brother can come here? Can he go to the safe place with me too?”

“Let’s work that out,” Will stands. “I need you to tell me if it’s okay to talk to Police Commissioner Brady. Tell Sonny if it’s okay to call the doctor, and your brother too. We’re not doing anything unless you say so.”

“I’m scared, and so, so tired.” Leaning back, Melanie closes her eyes. “Part of me hoped he’d just kill me and be done with it. I can’t keep living like this. You call them, it’s going to change everything. It has to change, so you can call. But please call my brother. I just want my brother.”

Placing her face in her hands, Melanie cries her eyes out.


	61. Chapter 61

It has Sonny shaken all the way down to his bones, bringing back so clearly the fear, the utter shock, and helplessness of being attacked by a man he’d thought cared about him.

More than when he was attacked by Stefano DiMera, he realizes, seeing Melanie’s fatigue, despair, and utter terror reminds him of his own.

And that desperate need, that need for a family’s support.

Hope’s the first to arrive, so Sonny makes himself busy making coffee while she talks quietly with Melanie and Will in the living room. Gentle, Sonny thinks, as he serves coffee, then goes outside to wait for the others to join him. To let Melanie have some privacy.

And he can’t help but remember his own interview with the cops, how relaxed they were, and gentle, just like Hope is with Melanie now. Patient, Sonny relaizes, pulling Melanie back through hell so she can lay it all out for them.

All she wants? Her brother.

Sonny watches the car tear up the road, walks down to meet Max, and, Sonny notes, her sister in law as she gets out of the car.

Sonny sees that her brother’s still wearing slippers. Tears sting his eyes--his own memories, the relief.

Sonny fights to push it down, reaching out a hand for Max Brady’s.

“She’s inside with Hope and Will. She won’t go to the clinic, but Kayla’s making her way here.”

“How bad--I have to--”

“He hurt her, Max. It’s not the first time either, but we’ll see to it it’s the last.”

“Go inside, Max. I need a moment. Can he go inside?” Chelsea asks.

“Of course. Straight to the back. Max...” Sonny hesitates, then follows his gut. “She’s gonna need you to hold on. That’s what she needs the most.”

Nodding, Max rushes right inside.

“Okay.” Chelsea sets her jaw. “Where is that bastard?”

“Melanie said he left early to head off on his own. That’s how she escaped.”

“Fucking finally. Sorry--I hate swearing, but I can’t help it. How did she even get here?”

“Had a job I needed finishing, and saw her when I was driving, saw how badly she got hurt, barely got her in the truck. She asked me to bring her here. She had Will’s card on her.”

“Thank God for that.” When tears flood Chelsea’s eyes, she blinks them away, then grabs Sonny in a hug. “Thank God you’re here.”

“I didn’t--”

“Thank God you’re here,” Chelsea repeats. “Just let me say this, alright? I’ve been worried sick over Melanie for the longest time, so just let me say that and calm down before going inside.”

“He threatened you and Max.”

Chelsea jerks back at that.

“If she tried to leave him or say a word about what he was doing to her, he’d go after you. And she believed him, so at least try not to be too mad at her.”

Lips tightly pressed together, Chelsea stares towards the river, the hills. “I’m gonna say this right here and now, Max and I can take care of ourselves, and our kids, we all can. We’re bringing her home even if we have to drag her back.”

“She can’t go home yet.”

Heat makes the tears dry as Chelsea whirls on Sonny, “If you even try suggesting she’s going to that bastard, I have no problem hitting you.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. Will called Allie, and Allie’s making arrangements, for Melanie to go to a shelter in Chicago. Your brother can go with if she wants him to. She’s safer in a shelter for the time being, until Hope sees to it Nick’s behind bars, and Melanie feels truly safe. And she’d get counseling too, talk to other women who went through the same thing.”

“Okay, as much as I want her back home, maybe that’s a better idea. She’s always been so sweet. I want my sister in law back.”

“They were spying on her, Chelsea--his family--were watching to make sure she knew her place. He threatened her family if she tried to break from it. It took real guts for her to leave.”

“You’re right.” Letting out a long breath, Chelsea shoves her hair away. “Okay, you’re right, and I gotta let some of this anger out. I’m going in.”

“I’m gonna wait for Kayla.”

“I won’t forget what you did. No one in Salem is ever gonna forget what you did.” Chelsea squeezes Sonny’s hand. “Neither will his family, so you better be careful, Sonny.”

When Kayla shows up, Sonny takes her in. While Will shows Melanie--with Max glued to her--and Kaya to a guest room, Sonny grabs a Dr. Pepper and goes for a walk with Benji.

“You never left her side, huh?” Sonny murmurs to the dog. “Good boy.”

He wanders into the trees as Benji sniffs, runs around some, then finally does his business.

“That’s a good boy. No business on my good lawn or my gardens.”

When Sonny walks out again, he sees Will sitting at one of the tables, writing some notes down.

“There you are.” Will stands, walking straight to Sonny as Benji dances on his hind legs, and wraps his arms around Sonny. “No need to be sad. This is an awesome day. No need to be sad.”

“It just threw me, is all. Not back to the showdown with Stefano--that was just fight or flight mode kicking in, and remembering how helpless I felt when it was with Leo. This reminded me of everything after that. It was the worst night of my life. How many nights like this has Melanie gone through?”

“It’s over. We’ll see to it. Hope already got a warrant. Called up a few cops, and they’re going out to find Nick’s family now.”

“But he’s not gonna be there.”

“I’m getting there.” Rubbing Sonny’s arms, Will takes a step back. “Whatever they’re doing, it’s not legal, so Hope can slam them for that too. Nick’s gotta come home eventually.”

“Meanwhile, Allie’s coming over. Uncle Eric put some amenities together, so she’s picking those up too, then take Melanie over to the shelter, help her get settled. And that’s if Kayla clears her. If she doesn’t, Allie’s gonna take her to the hospital in Chicago first.”

“You were so calm in there.” Sonny points out. “So calm, and nice. You knew exactly what to say, and how.”

“Part of my job.”

“No. Nuh uh.” Agitated, Sonny moves away as he keeps talking, “It’s not your job at all. It’s you. And whatever you said to her, when you gave her the card, it had to be exactly like that, at exactly the right time, or she never would’ve held onto it, or wanted to come here to see you.”

“I was where she was a long time ago.”

“No, it was worse. So much worse. Look at you now.” Sonny turns back. “You could’ve turned so bitter, angry, or let yourself get beaten to a bloody pulp. But you didn’t. You’re so kind and caring, and you actually made something of yourself. Damnit, and you went and messed everything up for me, too.”

Will laughs as his eyebrows go up. “How do you figure?”

“I came back because it fit the bill for what I thought I wanted. I could’ve gone anywhere I wanted, but I came home instead. My mom always told me everything happens for a reason. Guess she was right. Salem was far away--that was priority number one. Growing season, the town size, topography, and so on. It was perfect.”

“How exactly could I mess up growing season? And can I finish that Dr. Pepper for you?”

Sonny shoves it at Will. “Not what I meant. I also had very specific goals in mind. If I liked being back home after a few weeks, I’d build up my business. Again, priority number one. But a very close second was finding my own place, getting a house, land, make it my home. Building connections in my home community, working my way back into it, friends.”

“Sounds like you did a good job all around on that front. So where do I factor in as far as messing everything up goes?”

“Still don’t get it? Well, I’m not done yet. I’m not exactly a monk.”

“Which I’m definitely grateful for.”

Agitated, Sonny sticks his hands in his pockets, pulling them back out. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with finding a guy--detached, interesting, trusting, and I like the guy too--to sleep with. And tack on good looking, fun, smart, whole nine yards? Just a bonus.”

Wil rests his hip on the table, gently rubbing the dog with his foot. “Still not seeing the whole me-messing-everything-up bit.”

Sonny facepalms.

“Where in there did you hear me say, ‘relationship’, ‘serious relationship’ on list of things I was looking for? That’s right, I didn’t. The kind where I’m all but living with the guy, and not even bothering to make the house I bought my home.”

“We got rid of the wallpaper, painted the walls.”

“That makes it decent, not lived in. Right now? I’m taking Benji back towards the trees, congratulating him on not doing his business on _my_ lawn or _my_ gardens. Not Will’s, not his, mine. First person pronouns, because you messed everything up and turned it into my home.”

“Well, look.” Will gestures around them. “You made it your home. That’s not because I messed everything up.”

“You let me do it all.” Sonny points out, though that’s pathetic, and he knows it. “Then I saw you with T, someone you were friends with since you were kids. I saw you with your family, and they’re so fucking amazing, I see you with literally anyone, and you’re this amazing guy.”

“I am a guy. Can’t deny that.”

“Don’t get cute on me. I’m pissed off and agitated. I look at you, and you’re so amazing and caring because at your very heart, there’s honor.”

“I think that might be a slight exaggeration.”

“I say you have it.” Sonny snaps. “I can see it, feel it, hear it. And why, why did I meet you now instead of a few years in the future, after I did everything I set out to do? The practical stuff?”

Now Will has to smile. “Fate? I wasn’t looking for you either, or us, but I love you, Sonny.”

“I know.” Sonny says, annoyed. “And as if that doesn’t mess everything else up too, I love you too.”

“I know. I just like hearing you say it. Come home, Sonny. For real this time.”

He already has, Sonny thinks, sighing. “I’m keeping the house.”

“Why not? You’ll work your magic on the grounds, put in the greenhouse you’ve been talking about, store your equipment and God knows what other huge machines you wanna buy. Your place is important to Common Ground Landscaping.”

Sonny throws up his hands in surrender as Will walks towards him. “See, that’s why you get me. Just another way--”

“Messed everything up?” Will finishes.

“Yep.” Giving in, Sonny frames Will’s face with his hands.

“Guess I’m just stuck living with it. And you too.”

Will waits with Allie while Kayla finishes treating Melanie’s injuries. 

“I’ll go with you.” he starts, “Help you get her and her brother into the shelter.”

“No, there’s too much to do here. That way I can talk to Melanie. This step’s gonna be huge, not to mention scary.”

“Text me once she’s there.” Will looks at his watch. “Kinda hoping to hear from Hope by this point.”

“Let Hope work her commissioner magic, and you let Justin do his lawyer thing. And you take care of your big party.” Allie grabs Will’s wrist to look at the watch herself. “I’ll come back to pitch in in a few hours--Ethan too, once he’s done on the cop side. Uncle Eric will be here too--with Kyle. We’ll get everything done.”

“I think we should call it Melanie’s Independence Day.”

“Nice thought, for sure.”

But Will knows Allie too well. “You’re worried she won’t stick to it.”

“She has a lot of support, but she’s also got a struggle ahead of her. We just have to be hopeful.”

Will holds onto that hope as he helps Melanie into Allie’s car, reminding her to call him, whenever, if she needs it. After thanking Kayla, assuring Chelsea he’s on top of all of it, he stays where he stands for just a moment.

Now it’s quiet, peaceful, the river’s surface shining under the sunlight.

Perfect, he thinks, echoing Sonny’s assessment from earlier. A day to take to the water, eating hot dogs, drinking something on the warm grass.

A day where it feels like nothing ugly or bad exists.

But it does, always will. That’s what it means to live, navigating the ugly and the bad, rising above it, and shove it back where it belongs.

So he will.


	62. Chapter 62

After using the warrant to go through Melanie’s house, and a conversation with Nick’s beady eyed cousin, along with his suspicious wife, Hope draws to the conclusion that they already know something’s going on.

But a formerly future in law refuses to change her story, recounting the story that matches the same story almost verbatim.

She has no idea where Nick is--no way would he be up to anything illegal. Probably just camping or something, and if that ungrateful Melanie said anything about Nick so much as touching her, she’s a liar on top of a cunt.

The Fallon matriarch gives the same line, embellished on other details. About how Melanie has anger issues, throws things at their ever forgiving boy. Clumsy as a bull in a china shop, breaking things--which is mostly because she never watches where she’s going.

Hope makes a note of the binoculars found in all the houses, on the windowsills facing Nick and Melanie’s house.

She takes it all into consideration as she makes her way back to where Melanie lived, and what she finds--or more accurately, doesn’t find--inside.

She ran off at what looks like the crack of dawn with only what she was wearing and Will’s business card in her pocket. Inside, all Hope finds is some clothes, nowhere near as flattering for a woman her size or age. No jewelry, or makeup--not even lip gloss--two nightgowns no woman her age should be wearing, not even any shoes.

She’d grown up with two parents, several siblings, even had a first husband who’d died from a brain tumor, while raising her daughter with a man who thinks of her as his own after all this time, so she’s pretty well acquainted with women’s clothing.

Everything’s for all intents and purposes normal inside here.

And she hates, hates,  _ hates _ , she didn’t have any power or authority to do something. Until now.

She walks over to the Turnbaums’, finding them both outside, working in the garden.

Hand on his back, Hal straightens up, nodding. “Commissioner Brady.”

“Nice looking vegetables, Hal.”

“That they are, and an abundance of them. We can give you some to take with you.”

Hope’s quick to say, “Actually, someone talked us into planting our own. Just a few bushes, but they’re doing pretty good. I really would appreciate having a few words with the both of you.”

“I had a feeling you’d show.” Mary Beth adjusts her shirt. “Made some fresh iced tea. Come on in, sit in the shade.”

“I’d like that.”

“The kids’ll be by for a barbecue before we go by the river to watch the show.” Hal says as they walk.

“Guaranteed to be a good one.”

While Mary Beth goes inside to grab the iced tea, Hope sits with Hal on the porch.

“I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen or heard anything from Nick Fallon’s place last night.”

“Don’t think so. The AC was on, and the windows were shut.” Hal sighs. “He hurt her again, huh?”

“All I can say is she took off early this morning, battered all across her face. Did you by chance see her take off, or where Nick went?”

“If only. Never seen her drive anything, so I’d guess she was on foot. We would’ve helped her if we’d seen.”

“I know.” As Mary Beth comes out with three glasses, Hope smiles. “That’s looking good, Mary Beth.”

“She got away.” Hal tells her. “She finally left him.”

Mary Beth abruptly sets down the tray. “Thank God. We were so worried when we saw you and the other cops that he’d finally killed her. But she’s okay?”

“She’s going to be. What I know is Nick took off on his own early this morning. Got conflicting stories from the whole family.”

“Pretty sure I heard gunshots, when we went outside.” After handing the glasses over, Mary Beth takes a seat. “Nick doesn’t bother with staying out of trouble. He follows the money.”

“You wouldn’t by chance know who he likes to associate with, would you?”

Hal shakes his head. “I know he flaunts the money whenever he gets it. And there’s no way in hell he’s getting that from his job at Mad World. I wouldn’t go looking in the shady parts of town, he’s got a rep as well as a gun he’s not scared to use. If you do one thing he doesn’t like, he’d shoot you and spin it to fit his narrative.”

“One of them would’ve told them about you snooping. They all have each other on speed dial.” Mary Beth Adds. “Around 10, I’d say--and after we heard the gunshots--I saw one of them walk right next door, walking inside like they owned the place. Needless to say she was not happy when she came out. Must’ve seen Melanie was gone.”

“She would’ve been right there to push the button letting them all know.” Hal continues. “And then you showed up. She would’ve told them to keep their heads down, at least till you left.”

“Well then.” Hope sips her iced tea. “He can’t hide forever. We will leave, but we’re keeping his eye on the house. I’d really appreciate it if you’d do it as well, call me if he comes back.”

“Glad to.” Mary Beth pats her husband’s hand. “But please keep our names out of it. They’re out for blood, Hope.”

“Not a problem. Call me directly, understand?”

“Watch yourself.” Hal adds. “They’re not gonna be happy if you lock one of them up.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Hope assigns an officer’s rotation--all paired up--to watch the Fallon property. She’ll take one on the next shift, but right now she needs to get back, let her family know what’s going on.

She finds already covered tables, covered in colors, lights strung up, their kids beginning more out. And the little boy who calls her Tee-tee playing with the world’s fluffiest dog.

Kyle gets to his feet, walking over to her on those cute little legs, nattering away and smiling, arms already stretched out.

Hope grabs him up, a small toss in the air to make him giggle. Fluffy dog races over to jump on Jughead, while their own Tucker snoozes.

She sees more iced tea, hearing her husband’s laugh echoing through the open doors.

This is normal, she thinks. This is good, even for a short while, to see normalcy like this.

Kyle wiggles, walking over to Sonny, who--squealing some more--hauls the little squirt onto his shoulders before he keeps working on the lights.

She goes in, seeing Eric checking the potatoes for the salad, and Will working at peeling eggs.

“Why isn’t there a tool for this,” Will whines.

“There is. Your hands.”

Eric turns, Hope unable to not notice the relief in his eyes as they make eye contact. “And now we got two more,” Eric says brightly. “Where’s Ethan?”

“I’ve got him and his partner on watch for now. I’ll be switching in a while.”

“Alright. Take a seat with Will. Want some iced coffee?”

“I would’ve married you for just your iced coffee. Any word from Allie?”

“At the shelter with Melani and her brother.” Will tells her. “She’ll be back pretty soon. I’m guessing no one was home?”

“They will be pretty soon. Many of them have each other’s numbers on speed dial. They know we’re ready.”

She heads to the sink--she knows the rules--washing her hands before she sits and grabs an egg. “The women definitely were, had their stories match up. Mary Beth Turnbaum and one of the Fallons went over to Nick’s around 10 this morning. She saw Melanie was gone, so they were all ready for us with all the lies to cover it up.”

She peels her egg--she knows that rule too--reaching for another. “I’m gonna say this, that poor girl’s life has been hell over there. They all keep binoculars at their windows, which lets them look right into their backyard. She was being modest when she said they were watching her. And their kids are living in disgusting houses, kids wearing dirty diapers, with a parent looking like they’re seconds away from taking them out back if they thought they’d get away with it.”

“Jesus, Hope.”

“There’s always a look, Eric. He’s young, but the eyes always gives them away, and he had it.” she goes on while peeling yet another egg, “I see how our kids work together. And when that sweet little squirt comes running, smelling like grass and shampoo, wearing that adorable--whatever it is.”

“Jumpsuit,” Eric adds, setting her iced coffee down, standing behind her to give her a shoulder massage.

“Well he’s definitely jumping around, and now he’s up on Sonny’s shoulders out there, happy as a pig in mud. It made me think about those kids--not their fault--whoever’s in my position years from now? They’re gonna lock those kids’ parents up for life. Just the lots they got in life.”

“Some move past them,” Will says.

“True. Best thing to remember during all of this.”

Leaning over, Eric kissed her cheek, “Head outside, play with your stepgrandson. Me and WIll can finish here.”

“No, I’m good. Peeling eggs is very Zen. I need that right now.” She reaches back to squeeze Eric’s hand, then looks at Will.

“You’re a goodman, Will. I need you to know that in case I haven’t said it enough. You can’t peel eggs worth a damn, but you’re still a good man. Now if it were me, I’d let me do this myself, head out to the guy who just happens to be in love with you, help him string up the lights, and try your hand at sweet talking him into moving in with you again.”

“No need. He’s moving in tomorrow.”

Hope squeals, similar to Kyle, then Eric grabs Will in a hug, demanding, "Why exactly am I only hearing about this now?"

"Didn't get the chance, not with all the egg peeling."

Eric lightly pats Will on the face, "Get outta here. Get the lights up, and make sure the tables are set up exactly how they're supposed to."

"Yessir."

And he's free.

"Damnit, the potatoes." Eric rushes to grab the potatoes off the stove.

"Tough morning." Hope starts.

Relaxed, Eric pours the boiled potatoes into the strainer in the sink. "I know."

"But that right there? That made it so much easier."

Eric looks through the steam, through the window above the sink, out where Will grabs Kyle off Sonny's shoulders, setting him up on his own.

"He's happy, Hope. I was way more worried about him than Allie--he had to take so much on his shoulders. But he's so happy. And that guy out there? They work so well together. Seeing just how well they do, it makes it all so much easier. I see Ciara throwing a ball for the dogs and Shawn shaking his head and laughing his head off. It all just makes me so, so happy."

"We did good, Eric."

He looks over, smiling, "Nowhere near done yet, but yes. We really did do good."


	63. Chapter 63

A few hours after that, Will decides taking a long nap would be preferable to hosting a party. He’s been pulling out tables, chairs, climbing ladders, pulling out coolers full of drinks, and tubs of ice and alcohol.

Every time he thinks he’s gonna take a break, shower, somebody--usually a woman--gives him something else to do.

Before he even realizes it, the band Eric all but demanded they have shows up, starts setting up equipment on the hand built platform.

“Will, pull out the new trash cans.” Occupied herself with stashing prizes in tubs, Allie calls out before Will could try to sneak away again. “Don’t forget the liners! Shawn, you done with the signs yet?”

“Getting there!” Shawn, only person present with any kind of artistic talent, sits working on a sign for cans and bottles, and other ones for age appropriate prizes.

Will sets out the nre cans, stashing extra bags in the bottom just like Uncle Eric taught him, opening two of them to line the cans with.

Absolutely set on getting that break and shower before someone else needs him, he goes towards the door.

Then Sonny walks out.

He wears a pair of trunks that would make any gay guy for a hot summer day, along with anaoft pink t shirt.. Will wasn’t even sure Sonny owned any trunks, let alone ones that hang on him so well, and show off his toned torso so well, as well as his legs.

He’s wearing the bracelet Will gave him.

He’d apparently done something with his hair too, slicking it up some.

“Look at you.”

“You’d better be, I’m ready to get my party on.”

“Let’s have one weekly.”

Then Sonny makes it even better by handing Will a drink. “You can go get ready now.”

“Oh thank God.”

But Sonny can't resist pulling him in first, hand on the back of Will's neck, kissing him hard. 

“However long this all took me, it was so worth it. I need to take you to Chicago for a fancy dinner.”

“How about we take each other out for a fancy dinner?”

“I’ll allow it.”

Since Will has to get past Uncle Eric and Allie--putting together food and talking about it the entire time--he moves quickly and quietly.

Getting in the shower and throwing on his own pair of swim trunks doesn’t take long, and when he opens his balcony doors, he can hear the guitar, as well as his family, he steps outside for just a minute.

His younger cousin’s playing--thank the band for that one. And Shawn looks deliriously happy as the other pick up their instruments and play along with him.

All of the dogs, tired from the excitement of the afternoon, sleep in the cool shade. Kyle in his red white and blue outfit claps to the music.

Despite all the flack he gave everyone for the size of the party, Will can now see it’s all perfect. Just perfect, with red, white, and blue tables, light blue awnings for shade, stacks of plates and napkins and cups.

It’s too early for the lights, Will thinks, but that’s gonna be perfect too.

The beanbag toss boards designed by Sonny stand proudly on the lawn, so does a bigger one for the older kids to throw softballs.

Music blares, the sun is shining, and his boyfriend wears some very flattering swim trunks.

Yep, Will decides, it’s all just perfect.

It feels perfect, smells it, even sounds it when he’s working the grill, dozens of people flooding into his yard and house.

The newly refreshed dogs scatter among the crowd to beg for food.

Beanbags hit the board, and Will gets so many hugs, pats on the back, and kisses on the cheek as he keeps flipping burgers and hot dogs onto serving platters. He can smell fried chicken, hoping he’ll get a chance to grab some himself.

“Awesome party.” Ethan strolls over to Will. “Kaye’s about to take over in a second.”

He sees the look in his brother in law’s eyes, turning. “Then allow me to pass along the tongs.”

“I’m good.” Kaye tells him, handing Will a drink.

“Let’s take a walk.” With a glass of cold lemonade, since Ethan’s still technically on duty, Ethan leads the way to the far side of the house.

“What’s going on?”

“Just heard back from Hope. More of his family came back--Nick isn’t with them. They swear he’s just doing something harmless with friends. And more bullshit about Melanie being a liar, probably faked the whole thing to make Nick look bad.”

“What friends?”

“That’s another thing. How the hell would they know? He’s an adult, can do whatever he wants. Something tells me he was tipped off, got someone on his side, and now they’re helping hide him.”

Ethan looks back, making sure no one’s gonna overhear. “Hope said they have guns. Say they’re just for protection.”

“Gave Hope a lot of hell, but you know how the commissioner is, she can handle it. We’re gonna rotate again, keep an eye out, but most likely Nick’s gonna stay hidden for a couple days.”

“He can’t stay hidden forever, and Melanie’s safe.” That, Will thinks, will have to be enough for the time being. “Justin’s drawing up the restraining order, then he’ll go to see her, let Melanie look it over, explain what she needs to do now that she’s had a moment to breathe.”

“Still praying she doesn’t back out again. Well, then, you should go grab some food. Have some fun at your own party.”

“I’m gonna do that. Keep me posted. The sooner Nick’s locked away, the better.”

She’s gonna be scared, Will thinks as they go back around the house. Melanie’s gonna be scared until he’s locked up. And fear, Will knows, pushes you into fight or flight mode.

Still, he has to stop thinking about it, at least for right now. He’s got hundreds of people talking, eating, playing games. He manages to grab a piece of chicken before grazing the food tables, piling it all on.

“Try the salad.” Mia comes up next to him. “Doug made it, and you won’t regret it.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Will leans in to kiss her cheek.

“Just got here. And once we did make an appearance, my kids got confiscated. This house is amazing, Will, and the grounds--amazing! I gotta go try and be friends with Sonny.”

“He makes it all really easy, which is why I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He’s over there, helping with the games.”

Will looks around as he scoops up some salad, watching Sonny cheer on a little kid at the softball toss.

Mia cocks her head. “I don’t think there’s anyone on this planet who wouldn’t kill to have someone look at them the way you look at Sonny. Does he know you’re in love with him?”

“Yeah. That obvious, huh?”

“Completely. I’m happy for you, Will. Now I’m gonna find Doug, see if he looks at me like that.”

He squeezes himself in between T and Gabi letting the music and the noise relax him as he eats.

“You actually know everyone here?” T asks him.

As Will looks, he shrugs, shoving in more salad--Mia wasn’t exaggerating. “More like Uncle Eric does. They just keep coming, huh?”

“Music is awesome, food’s amazing. Why wouldn’t they?”Gabi points a fork at him. “If you do it again, it’s gonna be bigger. Word’s gonna spread fast. People are gonna be kissing your ass just to get an invite.”

Then she leans in, lowering her voice. “I really don’t want to be a party pooper, but do you know if Melanie’s okay? Our moms are close.”

“She’s with her brother, and safe.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll tell my mom.” Gabi squeezes herself out, patting Will’s shoulder before she walks away. “No good deed.”

“So I guess now wouldn’t be the best time I had an...unfortunate encounter with Nick a few weeks ago?”

Will turns to look at T. “Define ‘unfortunate encounter’.”

“It was practically nothing. I’m just walking, minding my own business, meeting Gabi somewhere for a bite to eat. I pass a bar, Nick walks out, full on bumps into me, okay? So I’m just like, Hey, watch it, man, plenty of road for the both of us, but then he gets all up in my face, right? And you can pretty much guess. Guy was smashed.”

SInce he hadn’t managed to grab it the first time around, T stops to grab a bite from Will’s. “Not even 7 at night, and he’s smashed, which is why he’s stumbling out of the bar, and why he’s looking to start something. They kicked him out.”

“And there’s a handy guy like you right in front of him.”

“Of course. I just wanted to eat with my beautiful girlfriend. Don’t want any trouble with a mean drunk, so I’m just like, hey take it easy, man, but he doesn’t feel like taking it easy. He shoves me a few times, I figure I’m faster than him, but I guess I’m too chicken to do that. I figure I’m gonna have to fight this drunken mess of a guy. Then Serena comes along. You remember Serena, right? Nice girl, with Eric for a hot second forever ago?”

“Yeah, I know her.”

Actually, Will can see her now simply by her hair.

“She shows up and gets up in _his_ face, tells him to get lost, and says if he tries driving away, she’s gonna call the cops, cause he’s plastered. Nick walks off, flips us off like that would actually offend us. I want to buy her a drink to say my thanks, but she takes a rain check cause she’s going home. So I figure that’s that.”

“You’re saying it wasn’t?”

“Next morning I’m heading out for a job, my tires got slashed, all four of them.”

“Bastard.” WIll mutters. “Did you tell Hope?”

“Yeah, but it was pointless. No proof it was him. And I’ll take slashed tires over a slashed up face. I’m just saying he’s definitely gonna try something with you, because just like Gabi said, no good deed.”

“I’d like to see him try.”

“When he does, I’m there for you. Put me on speed dial if you have to. I’m serious. Now I’m putting a pin in it, because it’s time for some serious partying. Like Gabi said, music’s awesome. I’m gonna track her down so I can show everyone how to really dance.”

Or how not to, Will thinks. T literally has no rhythm, but at least he still has a good time on the dance floor.

Will’s hoping to have the same with Sonny, but knowing his duties, walks back over to the grill to relieve Kaye of hers. And finds Hope already has.

“Grab a drink and a plate,” Will tells her. “I can handle it.”

“Nope, I need to wind down first, and working the grill works wonders. We can talk about the rest of it tomorrow.”

Immediately understanding, Will backs off. “Send me a smoke signal once you’re ready.”

“I’m counting on it. Go find your boyfriend.”

“I think I will.” Will weaves through the crowd, stopping to talk here and there until he can reach Sonny.

He’s still on the softball toss, and spots Chad, along with a bunch of teens, including Ciara.

He hears the last few words of a challenge as Sonny looks at Ciara, lightly tossing a ball in the air.

“I get three in a row, you get to take over.”

“With an over-sixteen distance.” Ciara adds. “Straight up pitch. None of the underhanded nonsense.”

“Naturally.”

“Deal. But if you miss, you buy me lunch next Saturday.”

“Deal. Give me some room,” Sonny says, and in his tightly hugging trunks, steps back to the flag to show where the over 16 line is.

Sonny rolls his shoulders, sends the ball straight through the hole in the wood, straight into the net.

Will lifts his brows as Sonny says, “One.”

Will already knows Sonny’s got an arm, but now Will also knows Sonny’s got incredible form.

Sonny sends the second one with a little whiz on it, then picks up ball number three. Sonny teases with his eyes at Ciara as she rolls her own.

And hits the sweet spot with that third ball.

As he pretends to polish his nails with his arm, Sonny smiles at Ciara. “You’re on the clock. Oh, and look at that, we got another competitor.”

Even as WIll shakes his head, Sonny grabs his hand, pulling him towards the line.

“I’m really rusty,” Will tries to excuse himself.

“Not even three pitches in one little hole?”

“I came over here to dance, not throw softballs.”

“Dance with me? That’s what you get if you do throw softballs, genius. Come on down.”

Sonny tosses a softball over. Will prefers the size and roughness of a baseball, but it still hits a nerve, takes him back to the past.

He gets the first one through easily, feels that quick pang.

He takes another one, lets it fly so it hits the net hard.

Feels so damn good.

He puts speed on the last one, wincing as the force knocks the net over. “Sorry.”

“You haven’t changed a bit, Will.” Chad says as Ciara walks over to fix the net. “Not even a little. Man, that takes me back.”

“Me too.”

Sonny runs a hand up Will’s arm. “If you don’t play for the Titans next season, they’re gonna lose a great one.”

“Isn’t that a little extreme?”

“Baseball is America’s favorite pastime.” Then Sonny takes Will’s hand. “I owe you a dance, Horton.”


	64. Chapter 64

While Will watches the fireworks explode in the sky, Nick Fallon decides to borrow Jensen’s car. Of course, with said good friend passed out, it’s not like Nick can bother actually asking to borrow it.

He knows he owes Jensen, not just for hiding him, but letting Nick dig into his drug stash to help calm him down.

And he’s still royally pissed.

He’s gonna teach Melanie a real lesson, one she’ll never forget when she shows up with her tail between her legs, but until then, there's several certain someones he’s just decided are in need of a little payback.

Prison had taught him--the hard way--that when you get fucked with, you gotta return the favor. And see to it they never even think about trying again.

He has the whole story now, knows exactly who he needs to return the favor to. And where’s the fun in waiting?

In a few days, he’ll come out of his hiding place, and his friend will swear on his own life that Nick was with him the entire time Nick was away from home.

No one would dare say otherwise.

He raids the paint supply. When Jensen doesn’t have a badge, he paints houses, and always takes the leftovers, swearing he uses every last drop.

There’s a closet piled high with paint cans, brushes and rollers, pans. Plenty for what Nick has planned.

After taking the cans to the car, as well as a few brushes, Nick drives into town.

He likes being slightly intoxicated, believing to think clearer after a few are in his system, so he’s smarter and stronger. Who cares if he swerves here and there?

All it does is make sure he stays awake.

When he makes towards Will’s office, the front right tire hits the curb, then runs right over it. This time of night, Salem’s asleep, no one’s gonna hear him as he works on his little art project.

Maybe now and again he gets paint on himself when he opens a can of Forsythia, and some on the sidewalk as he steps right through it, He dunks a brush in the can and slaps on his little note. He wants the letters nice and big, so he needs Amethyst. Two colors clashing horribly.

He’d been in juvie back in his later teens, and even before that he wasn’t exactly the best citizen anyway. But he can spell just as good as anyone, drunk or not.

_GO TO HELL_

Taking a step back, he studies his work, proud as he watches the paint slide down the perfect white building.

He uses more to paint _FAGGOT_ across the door before splashing more on the window, dumping the last of it right in front of the door.

Too smashed to worry about fingerprints, DNA, or common sense, he leaves the cans right in front of the building.

And doesn't even register his bladder emptying as he walks back to the car.

He’s got a rock solid alibi with Jensen anyway. What does he care?

He gets back in the car, smearing Forsythia on his hands over the wheel. He swerves his way out of Salem, making his way up to Sonny’s house.

Faggot thinks he can stick his nose where it doesn’t belong? Nick’ll show him.

He’d actually considered hiring someone to burn the place to the ground, but he doesn’t know anyone who would do it on such a short notice.

Next time, Nick promises, as he decides to deface the house with more clashing colors over the wood.

But before that, he looks around to make sure no one's looking, then jacks himself off, moaning in ecstasy as the cum shoots into the Forsythia, then proceeds to dunk his brush in it and start painting.

_ADAM AND EVE NOT ADAM AND STEVE_

He draws a cross, along with Leviticus 18:22, before considering it good enough.

Nowhere near done though, he walks back to his car.

Not playing around anymore. Not this time.

Behind the wheel, towards Will’s, too drunk and focused on getting where he needs to notice the headlights following him in the rearview mirror.

Even as drunk as he is, Nick still remembers Will’s security system. Everyone knows about it, especially since Stefano got his ass handed to him by that pretty boy. Which, in Nick’s mind, makes Stefano a coward, way too much of one to have ever beaten up his daughter in law and grandkids way back when.

Load of horeshit. 

One thing Nick isn’t, for damn sure, is a coward.

He turns off the headlights as he drives up the lane, pulling up. Some security, Nick sneers mentally. He can slip right past it, do what he came here to do, and slip right back out.

He gets his gun out of the back seat--forget the damn paint--and hikes into the woods.

He’s got a full moon to show him the way.

If there’s one thing Nick knows better than anything else, it’s how to make every bullet count.

He makes his way through the underbrush--what does he care if he scares off wildlife? What he’s after is sleeping safe and sound inside a house.

He’s not gonna kill them--not yet--but he’s definitely gonna scare the crap out of them.

“Get up. You’ll regret ever messing with what’s mine when I’m done with you.”

And maybe, one of them would be dumb enough to look outside the door, or even a window. If they do, a bullet’s going right between their eyes.

He doesn’t even care which one goes first.

“Think you can take my fiance away from me, turn her against me? I’m going to make you pay, every damn cent.”

He stumbles once or twice, scratches up his arms--leaving who knows how much skin behind.

Why the hell didn’t he grab a flask?

Everything he’s done so far has him sweating like a pig. He can even smell the stink coming off of him.

Oh well. He’ll clean up at Jensen’s, grab a flask, maybe pop some candy.

Sleep soundly once he finishes the job.

The moon shines through the trees, lighting up the house. Nick can’t believe his luck.

He pictures walking in and out of shadows, quiet as he stumbles and snaps twigs under his shoes.

But the shadow figure following him moves quietly, stalling.

Nick takes a gamble, at the edge of the woods, staying back as he looks at the house.

Rumor has it there’s a big cozy room up front with huge doors so that faggot Will can stand there and look out over the town.

He might even get lucky here, at least wound one of them.

Regardless, Nick thinks, regardless, they’re not going to be sleeping for quite a while once he’s finished.

He shoots twice, hitting the glass, watches it break.

Smiling, heart pounding, he keeps his arm steady, picturing his luck if Will were stupid enough to come to the door.

The shadow moves closer. All Nick registers is a stabbing pain when the rock hits his head. His gun lands on the ground seconds before he follows.

Now the shadowed figure smiles, and thinks only one word. Interesting.

When you have an opportunity like this presents yourself, only an idiot would pass it up. Relaxed, he takes the gun, dragging Nick away.

This little opportunity’s gonna be dealt with more privately.


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small note here: the descriptions are a little more graphic than usual. Brace yourself, cause it's not gonna be pretty.

The gunshots wake Will up out of his sleep. Immediately, he rolls over on top of Sonny, wrapping himself around him, keeps moving until they’re on the floor.

“Down.” Will snaps as the dog starts howling.

“What the--”

“Stay down. Someone’s shooting at us.”

“No way. Probably just fireworks.”

“Fireworks don’t do this.” WIll gestures at the broken glass, raising his voice over the alarm as it starts blaring.

Benji nuzzles them both, tongue licking everything it can touch while Will slithers over Sonny, hand fumbling on the nightstand for his phone, already ringing.

“Yeah, there’s a problem. Someone outside is shooting at my house. Call the cops immediately. Stay down,” he tells Sonny again. “Lay low, get into a spare room and hide. If he breaks in, sneak out a window. And don’t stop.”

Sonny lays on the floor, clutching Benji, his whole body shaking. “What about you?”

“Damnit, Sonny, just do it.”

Will stays down, working his way over to the closet and going inside. He comes out with a baseball bat Uncle Eric had given him when he was 13.

And sees that instead of hiding, Sonny’s unplugged a lamp, holding it the same way Will’s holding the bat.

“Better to have two weapons than one,” Sonny starts.

“Shut up!” Will shoves him. “That’s an engine.”

Moving quickly, Will takes off towards the broken doors before Sonny can object--and catches the telltale sign of tail lights flashing.

“Bastard. I’m going after him.”

“He has a gun. Do you?”

Ignoring Sonny, WIll grabs some pants, swearing as he steps on some of the broken glass. “Don’t move.”

Sonny’s only got a second to react: Like hell.

When Will runs out of the room, Sonny’s right behind him. “Will, wait. Stop and think. I know you’re pissed. I am too. But you don’t know how many more there are out there, and they could be armed too, Will. They’re probably trying to lure you out of here, and here you are going along with it.”

Though it makes his skin crawl, Sonny pulls out another weapon--the only thing Sonny knows would work on a guy in a serious relationship.

“Don’t leave me here by myself.”

That stops Will cold. “Damnit, Sonny. He can’t outrun my car. Hide until the cops get here.”

It still makes his skin crawl, but deciding his own pride isn’t worth Will’s life, Sonny grabs Will in a tight hug. “Don’t.”

“Okay, okay.” So Will stands with Sonny on the stairs, holding onto him. “It’s okay, Sonny. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay.”

Relief floods Sonny’s system, as he tightens his hold. “It was Nick. You know it was. He’s not getting away, Will.”

“No, he’s not. Look at me--I’m not going anywhere. Take Benji into the spare room--don’t go near the windows. I’m just going downstairs to wait for Hope.”

“We’re all going down together. Oh my God, you’re bleeding.”

“I just stepped on the glass.”

“In the bathroom.” Sonny all but orders. “Let’s clean it up, then Hope or Ethan or someone will show up by then.”

It gives Sonny focus, something to shift his attention to, so his hands are steady as he looks at and cleans up the injury--way nastier than Sonny would prefer, but not as bad as he thought.

“He wasn’t trying to break in.”

“He knew about the security system. No one in town that doesn’t. And probably too wasted to realize so much as touching the glass would trigger the alarm.”

Seconds before Will hears the sirens, Benji starts howling again.

“Incoming. Sonny? You’re in your underwear.”

“Right. I’ll fix that and be right down.”

Will stands, walking on his bad foot. “You were never worried about being alone, were you?”

“Yes I was.” Sonny says simply, then goes to throw some clothes on.

The dog all but darts downstairs, barking madly, and Will follows.

Still in just his boxers, Sonny sits on the bed, letting his whole body shake again. Broken glass, bloody feet, messy sheets. And, as he now sees, the bullets that had gone straight into the wall just a few feet from where they were sleeping.

What if Nick had chosen to wait? Until morning, until Will stepped outside like he always does? Until they were both on the back porch eating breakfast?

They would’ve been sitting ducks.

Or if he’d come earlier, using the fireworks to cover his tracks, shot them while there were kids running around the place, while everyone was focused on the sky.

Sonny wraps his arms around himself, rocking back and forth.

“Get ahold of yourself,” Sonny tells himself. “Just get ahold of yourself. It never happened. They’re gonna find him. They will.”

Sonny goes back to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, waiting for the sick to his stomach feeling to pass.

By the time he finally pulls his clothes on, Will’s coming back up the stairs.

“Wanted to make sure you were dressed. Hope has to come up here.”

“Okay.”

Will goes over to Sonny, hand on his face. “You’re really pale.”

“I’ll be a lot better once I get some coffee. I’m gonna go make some.” Sonny looks down the stairs where Hope’s waiting. “Good to see you, Commissioner.” Sonny makes his way down. “Didn’t even hear the gunshots, or the glass breaking. I only woke up when Will was pushing me off the bed and hit the floor.”

“Don’t worry about that now. We’re on top of this. That is a guarantee.”

Sonny nods, walking into the kitchen to make coffee.

He keeps sitting, sipping his coffee slowly, when Will and Hope finally come back down.

Sonny likes to think he’s very skilled at reading the room, and very suddenly, he has the feeling this room’s suddenly become a lot more depressing than a moment ago.

“Please tell me he didn’t actually shoot someone.”

Shaking her head, Hope sits next to Sonny. “Ethan called in. Will’s office was vandalized again. Sloppy graffiti all over the front. Paint’s not even dry. I have a few officers going up to your place to check it out.”

“Okay. I’m betting it was Nick who broke in before, before T installed his security system.”

“Probably. We’re waiting till the sun comes up to see if we can find where exactly he was when he shot the place. And we’ll check his place too, and his family too.”

“Okay.”

Hope pats his shoulder. “You’re pretty strong, Sonny.”

“Not exactly, but I believe in a just system. It was there for me when I needed it the most. I know you’ll catch him. Where can he go anyway? And you’ll lock him up. Except...”

“What?”

Sonny turns his head to look at Will. “It’s too coincidental for it not to be Nick, with all the crazy timing. But Will, you’re an investigative journalist. Is it too farfetched to think someone you wrote about tracked you down, for revenge? I can tell you already thought of it. It’s all over your face.”

“I had to.” Will agrees. “But I know it’s Nick. Tagging me personally, and my office, that’s ridiculous. It’s so him. And I’d bet anyone I wrote about who is smart enough to track me down wouldn’t do it while smashed.”

Hope stands to answer the phone, wandering off for a moment, then coming back once she’s done.

“I’m sorry, Sonny, but your house got hit too. Paint, ugly hate speech. And...his DNA. We’re sending it off. Nick’s is still on file. But it takes time. Not as long when it’s prints, and we’ll find those too.”

“I want to see--”

“No you don’t.” Hope says before Wil even can. “It’s officially a crime scene, and you can’t go anywhere near it. You need anything from there, we’ll grab it.”

Sonny looks Hope right in the eyes as he demands, “What kind of DNA was it?”

“Leave that to the professionals.” Hope pats his shoulder. “Now I need you both to stay put for now. We’re gonna go talk to the Fallons. And leave the bedroom how you left it. One of my men is coming to take pictures.”

Hope leans in, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “No one hurts the people I care about. Take that and run with it.”

“Let me walk you out.”

Sonny doesn’t move, waits for Will to come back.

“What was the DNA? She told you, didn’t she? I should know.”

“My office, he just peed in front of the door. But your place? He jacked off in the paint before smearing it on your house.”

Sonny lets out a breath. “Well. Glad I wasn’t there for that.”

“I’d beat the crap out of him just for that, and that’s coming from someone who prefers words over fists any day of the week. But for that, I’d beat the crap out of him. Sonny, I--”

Sonny’s shoulders turn hard. “Don’t you dare apologize. I’m the one that picked her up on the side of the road. I brought her here for help. We’re together on this.” Though his eyes hurt, his voice doesn’t wobble. “Don’t you dare apologize for any of this.”

Sonny wipes a hand over the few tears that did fall. “Benji needs to head out.”

Since the dog’s done nothing but dance by the door, Will has to agree.

“I’ll take him--leashed. Any way you could scramble some eggs?”

“I can try, but no promises how they’ll end up, not with how this morning’s going.”

“Can’t be as bad as mine.”

Will grabs the leash, clipping it on the excited dog. “If you’d been there when this happened--”

“I already did the what if routine upstairs, before I remembered that’s not important. You’d better be starving if you’re gonna eat my anxiety riddled eggs.”

Under the security lights, Will walks Benji, using that as his excuse to look towards where he’s assuming the shooter was standing. He’s had to read up on plenty of crime scenes in his past life, look over countless police reports.

And because he’s done so, he keeps Benji on a very short leash. He decides that was actually smart, especially when Benji sniffs the air and tries to pull him forward.

“Watch it. We mess this up, Hope won’t need to kick my ass, cause I’ll be doing enough kicking for both of us.”

Carefully, it’s not long before Will doesn’t need to follow Benji’s nose. Will can smell it himself.

Now more cautious, he picks up the dog, putting up with the struggling, and the tongue as he studies the already disturbed ground.

And the not even dry blood.

“Would you look at that?”Will mutters. “Hang on.”

Crouching down, he keeps a firm hold on Benji’s collar, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He takes a few shots, then walks back carefully until he’s far enough away to trust the leash won’t be a problem.

He has to pull the dog away, then leads him off where Benji can do whatever he wants without contaminating a crime scene.

While the dog stays busy, Will calls Hope.

“I got something--and before you jump to conclusions, I didn’t contaminate anything. I’m gonna send you a few pictures. Get someone over here. There’s got to be at least two of them, Hope, and one of them was bleeding.”

He sends the pictures, thinking it over as he walks Benji back for an early breakfast.

Sonny’s by the stove, frowning at the skillet. “First they go runny, then in no time at all they go rubbery. But I never burned them, so--”

He turns as he speaks, sees Will’s face. “What? What’s wrong?”

“They’re gone. It’s okay.”

“They?”

Will nods, releasing Benji from the leash. “Benji sniffed them out. Good boy,” Will rubs the dog,s belly, then pours some food in his bowl. Benji’s on it like a hawk to a fish.

“There’s blood.”

“Blood?”

“I’m not a cop, but I’ve worked with them before for articles. From what I can tell? There was two, one of them hit the other with a rock. The rock has blood on it,” Will goes on as he grabs plates. “On the ground, messy brush, drag marks.”

Will shrugs, “There’ll be more when the sun’s up, but the easiest explanation is two of them, and one of them pulled the other out after knocking him out with a rock.”

Sonny watches Will as Will grabs the forks. “You’re surprisingly calm about all this.”

“Well, now it’s more of a mystery, so it’s intriguing. And we’re about to eat breakfast.” Will rubs Sonny’s arms quickly, as much as he had with the dog--easily. “I’m still royally pissed, but now we have something else to figure out. Nick Fallon’s easy, almost positive it’s him, and a pretty good idea why. But why would Nick hit someone on the head when he has a gun? Or why did someone hit Nick with it?”

“To help us? And that makes no sense,” Sonny admits as he scoops the rubbery eggs onto both plates. “What would they be doing there in the middle of the night? Why not run the other way and say nothing?”

“See that?” Will points a finger at Sonny, before sitting down to eat. “Now you’re thinking about it. Could be a friend of his, whoever’s hiding him. They had some kind of disagreement out there, one hits the other.”

“Hm.” Sonny tries the eggs. Salt. “Then it’s like, oh crap, we gotta get out of here. But that’s just dumb.”

Will goes for the pepper. “We’re looking at--more likely than not--Nick Fallon, Sonny. No one’s as dumb as him when he gets obsessed or drunk. Or both.”

“More than likely.” Sonny repeats. “It’s definitely more than likely, but I think you should still check up on the people you wrote about that might want to hurt you.”

“I have the articles. I’ll look, but the odds are Hope’s gonna catch Nick really damn fast, and the prints guarantee it.” Because they can’t be worse than what Will could’ve cooked up, Will takes another bite. “She’s angry. Hope.”

“I could see that.”

“She always gets the job done, but when she’s angry? She’ll catch Nick faster than you can blink. But still, I have to tell you--”

“There’s more out there,” Sonny finishes for him. “And they hold a grudge against people who lock up one of their own.”

“Not bad for a former rich boy, and no, they’re not gonna like it at all. So you need to be careful. We both are,” Will corrects before Sonny can. “Not to mention our guard dog.”

Sonny looks over at Benji. He’d finished his food and is now lying belly up, legs up, tongue hanging out.

Smiling, Sonny holds up the wrist with the bracelet. “That makes the both of us.”

“And we’ll look after each other.” Will closes a hand over Sonny’s wrist. “The three of us. All for one, one for all.”

Like he was poked, Benji leaps up, barking like crazy as he runs to the front of the house.

“Cops are here.” Will says. “One thing I can be absolutely sure of, no one’s coming in here with Benji off the leash.”

Will stands, taking his plate as well as Sonny’s to the sink. “I’ll get them.” he tells Sonny. “Call off our little guard dog.”

Sonny stands, breaches, “I love you, Will Horton.”

When Will turns to smile, Sonny shrugs. “Felt like one of the perfect times to say it.”

“Whenever you wanna say it is the perfect time. I love you too, Sonny.”

Knowing it’s the truth, Sonny walks off to call off the still barking dog to let the cops inside.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I seem to be publishing at a faster rate, don't I? Well that's because I'm eager to finish this one so I can start on an exciting new one that's coming after this one! Hope you enjoy the rest of this one as well!

It really takes Sonny back, cops all over the place, how they move, the way they talk. It reminds him of when he was attacked by Stefano, but weirdly enough, that encounter’s a bit blurry. It happened so quickly.

But the cop lingo, the work, pulls him back to the day he lost his mom. And with perfect clarity, the utter shock and begging someone to tell him it wasn’t true, when he saw the cops’ faces, the ugly words hitting him like a punch to the face.

Now, like then, there’s nothing he can do, nothing to keep him occupied.

It’s the waiting game once again.

He’s already given them his statement, doesn’t have anything to add. For now, Hope had been quick to remind him. Sonny can’t go anywhere just yet.

Sonny’s watched enough cop shows to have a rough idea of what’s going on right now.

They’re taking official pictures of the spot Will found by the woods, taking blood samples, and the rock. Others would be on the bedroom, getting the bullets out of the wall.

Bullets. Sonny thinks as he moves from the kitchen to the living room. More of the waiting game.

It almost doesn’t feel real.

Sonny’s suddenly feels embarrassed--ridiculous, actually--when Eric comes in. Then he walks right over to Sonny, wrapping his arms around him, just holding him.

That embarrassment quickly turns into relief.

“They won’t let me go outside.” Sonyn starts. “Or the dog, so I have to stay with him. Will’s out there right now, but it’s also his house, so--”

“That’s not the whole reason.” With one last shoulder squeeze, Eric steps back. “He was an investigative journalist. He knows what he’s doing. Follow me. I’ll fix some coffee.”

Now Sonny lets out a sigh. No more pity parties, because that’s almost worse than not doing anything. “Dr. Pepper sounds good to me. You want something?”

“Not at the moment. Thanks anyway.”

“I need to see my lace, look at the damage.”

“You’re going to,” Eric assures him. “And once Hope clears it, we’ll all help you fix it up. You sure you don’t need more sleep? Sun’s barely risen.”

“I’m wide awake right now. Had to call Chad, tell him everything because I’m not coming into work this morning. He’ll get everything where it’s supposed to.”

“Working for you has really mellowed him out. What’re you doing right now?”

“You’re distracting me.”

“If it’s that easy, it won’t work.”

Sonny walks to the kitchen doors--firmly shut--looking out at the grounds designed by his own hand, the stream he’d dug himself. “I love being here. The house we’re in, what I get to look at when I look out the window. I love Will, despite how nerve wracking that still feels.”

“And now you’ve had to deal with an ugly altercation twice in the same house.”

“Exactly. Are some people just meant to--I know, I know how ridiculous sounds. But are some people just meant to have violence follow them everywhere they go? Over and over?”

“Not for a second.”

“I don’t want to believe that either, but while I’m stuck inside, waiting, and I started thinking about how my whole life got upended when I met my bastard ex husband. Up to that point, and even considering my parents’ divorce, I still had a good, solid childhood, and a comfortable life. My parents, school, traveling, the people I met along the way, my jobs, and the hearts I broke. Pretty smooth sailing.”

On one long sigh, Sonny sits.

“Then there’s Leo. I married him to save the company’s reputation, but fuck that, Eric, others have done worse for less. And it’s always meant to fall apart, regardless of why. But this not only fell apart, said falling part meant I got a trip to the ER.”

Eric catches Sonny’s shoulders in his hands, shaking him slightly. “The situation did not put you there. He did.”

“And he wouldn’t have hesitated to do it again if he thought he still had an in with me. I’d never had anyone want to cause me harm like that before. Then my mom, having to lose her like I did. Coming back home, and still getting a fresh start, right? Then Stefano, finding Melanie, now all of this. It just keeps coming.”

“You’re a smart, mature man, Sonny. And most of the time you’re pretty happy-go-lucky. I can hardly blame you for not being able to see the positive right now. But everything you're saying right now is just ridiculous.”

“I don’t know Leo.” Eric goes on. “But I know the kind of guy he is because of Stefano and my twin sister. They’re cruel, horrible people who hide their true selves so easily. I grew up with Sami, interacted with Stefano all the time, but I never saw it, not entirely. That wasn’t meant to be. That was all their doing.”

“It was, huh?” Sonny agrees. “It was the worst thing they could ever do.”

“What happened to your mom happened because someone was cruel, and selfish. And I hope they get everything they deserve for the rest of their lives.”

Eric pits an arm around Sonny’s shoulders, pulling him close. “In a really messed up way, you were able to handle yourself with Stefano because of how things ended with Leo. I find it admirable--which is why I’m gonna nag you now, later--about that self defense class. As for Melanie, it’s your compassion for others that saved her, so don’t you dare think anything else, understand? As for this…”

Eric sighs here. “This morning was a selfish man’s attempt to show people you can’t push him around, when really, he’s just a little punk. Hope’s gonna see to it he’s gonna stay behind bars before the sun goes down. That’s a promise.”

“Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”

“What you really need is to get away from here and get back to work. Take this adorable dog with you and go work at something you can actually do. So I’ll go talk to Hope about letting you go do that. Where are you supposed to be right now?”

“Had something to finish up the road--that’s where I was going when I found Melanie--but I can work on that later. I send my crew to the Olson/Anderson place, by the river.”

“Okay then.” Eric pats Sonny’s shoulder, then stands. But before Eric can go outside, they hear the unmistakable sound of feet running downstairs. And the door slamming shut.

“That’s it.” Sonny jumps up, grabbing the leash. “I’m not gonna sit here for another second.”

With a dog excited at the new activity, and Eric next to him, Sonny walks right outside, just in time to see two cop cars take off.

“They had to have caught him,” Sonny goes for Will as Will walks towards them. “Or he did something else. But...did they catch him?” Sonny calls out.

Will keeps walking. “They got him. Nick Fallon.”

Something’s not right, Sonny thinks, and by the way Eric has a hand on Sonny’s shoulder, he knows Eric can sense it too. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“They caught him, floating in the river. He’s dead. Jesus,” Will rubs a hand over his face. “Ciara’s the one that called it in.”

“Ciara? Oh my God, I have to--”

“No.” Will shifts to stop Eric where he stands. “Stay put. Hope has this covered. She’s talking to Ciara right now. They were working. It was your crew, Sonny. And from what I heard, Lani’s the one that saw the body. Chad tried to help. It was too late, and he screamed for someone to call 911. So Ciara called her mom.”

Will takes Benji’s leash. “Let’s take a seat. Keep Benji away from the crime scene. They’re done, or used to be, but let’s still keep him away for now.”

“I have to talk to my girl.” Eric insists.

“Call her. Sonny, let’s keep a cool head and make coffee.”

“I’ll do it.” Eric waves them off. “I’ll start, call Ciara. I have to call Shawn as well, so he stays away from that part of the river.”

Nodding, Will nugles Sonny to a patio chair, putting the end of the leash around his wrist when Benji sits under the table to rest.

“He was murdered,” Sonny starts.

“Or he fell in, or even killed himself. Let the cops and the medical examiner figure that out.”

“The blood, the rock, the drag marks. Put it all together, Will, and someone killed him and dumped him in the water. Question is who and why.”

“They’ll be talking to his friends. Found a truck right before Ciara called. Got plenty of paint splattered, more cans, and blood. It looks like his friend Jensen went along with Nick on his little vandal spree, they argued over something, and Jensen hit him with the rock. Probably wasn’t even trying to kill him, but then he did, panicked, and dumped him. But it’s not always what it seems, and there’s still no explanation for why Jensen would leave his truck on the side of the road by the river.”

“Waiting game on facts.”

“I have to talk to the crew.”

“I know.” Will puts a hand over Sonny’s. “You will.”


	67. Chapter 67

The shadowy figure turns into a man, who’s currently standing outside watching all the drama play out as he looks out over the river.

He’d even watched the dumbass jump in, to grab the body.

It made him laugh like nothing else.

He just sits there while the idiot cops came across the car he’d left where even the biggest idiot could find it. Something tells him that Jensen fellow--according to the car’s registration--is about to have a very bad day ahead of him.

But the dead body in the water, the rescuer that was too little too late, and all the chaos that ensues is just the perfect cherry on top.

Then the cops come peeling over--is that not a sight to behold or what? This is the only fun he’s had in a while. At least since he’d beaten the crap out of that little twink he’d picked up a while back.

Best time he ever spent, he thinks as he keeps watching the show, as he remembers following his gut--and tracking the dumbass with the paint.

It was a sign straight from the heavens, and no one can tell him different.

He really hopes the idiot’s death will cause some serious trouble for Horton. Maybe it will. Maybe. Dumbass vandalizes the faggot’s office, then vandalizes the one he’s sodomizing--

Whoa there. Take a breath. Calm down.

Then what does the dumbass try to do? He drags his intoxicated ass all the way to Horton’s house, and puts a few bullets in his windows.

Nick Fallon can be happy to know this. If this particular man hadn’t put him out of his misery and killed him with a rock, the bastard could’ve been spending the rest of his life in prison.

Better to be dead than that.

“You’re more than welcome.” Snickering, he goes back inside for more coffee, a buttery croissant, and maybe even a local jam to top it off.

He brings it back out to his porch, sitting in his nice chair.

And keeps watching the show while eating his continental breakfast.

When Eric brings out the coffee, he rubs Will’s shoulder. “I’m gonna make a huge pasta salad and chill it.”

“You don’t need--” Sonny starts to object.

“Hope’s letting your crew leave, and they all want to come here, see you both. So I’m putting a lot of food together from what little I can find in this crappy pantry. And raid the kitchen garden while I still can.”

Will reaches out to squeeze Eric’s shoulder. “Take the best pasta salad. Is Ciara okay?”

“Looks like it. I wanna go see her for myself. I asked Ben to go and pick up Shawn. I want both our kids where I can see them with my own eyes. Then you can get them all to help you take all these canopies down, and put the rest of the extra tables and chairs away.”

Eric looks. “Can’t believe it was only yesterday we were all put there celebrating the 4th of July.” Eric leans over to hug Will again. “Hope’s still gonna be a while. She has plenty to deal with already.”

“Will.” Sonny reaches for him once Eric goes back inside. “Someone needs to tell Melanie.”

“I want it to be me, and in person. And as soon as humanly possible.” WIll adds. “You gonna be okay if I go to Chicago?”

“Of course! Want me to come with?”

“No, you just stay put, help your crew calm down. I’m gonna check with Hope, get her permission. She’s got the harder job. She has to tell the rest of his family.”

Which she’s going to, but Jensen has to be dealt with first. Hope finds him sleeping on the couch, surrounded by bottles, pills yet to be abused.

The hard kick Hope gives him just gets a loud groan.

“Gotohll.” Jensen mutters, and tries rolling over.

This time when she kicks him, which serves to put Jensen on the ground.

“What the hell?” Jensen’s eyes immediately go to Hope. “How the hell did you get in here? This is my house. You have no right--”

“Your wife kicked you out of the bedroom, didn’t she? Get up. You’re under arrest.”

“No I’m not. I didn’t do anything.”

Consideration in her eyes, she narrows them. “Where’s Nick Fallon?”

“How the hell would I...” Jensen blinks, then stands.

“He’s around. Probably went out for food. We’ve been tight since he got out. We were gonna have some fun of our own, but chose not to. Nothing illegal there, officer.”

“But defacing property is. And you were dumbe enough to use your own car to paint obscenities on WIll Horton’s office, and Sonny Kiriakis’ house.”

“I did not. I was here all night. Ask my wife, or even my kid.”

“The paint’s still all over your car, and all over the wheel.”

But there’s nothing, Hope notices, on Jensen, who looks like he’s been sleeping on the couch for several nights.

“What about the paintbrushes, Jensen? Paint cans? Car?”

“Not me. My guess is someone stole it. Ask my wife, or Nick himself.”

“I did ask your wife, who’s not in the habit of checking your every move when you’re sleeping on the couch. And I can’t ask Nick Fallon.”

“And why is that?”

“Because we just pulled his body out of the river just this morning, not too far away from where we found your car. He’s dead.”

“No he isn’t. He’s just out getting food. We’ve been here because our plans fell through.”

Hope pulls out her phone, pulls up the crime scene photo of Nick Fallon, eyes wide open, gray faced, and shoves it in Jensen’s face.

She promptly pulls it back, and herself, when the first thing Jensen does is puke on the floor.

The smell, Hope thinks, is worse than a rotting corpse.

“Did you and Nick have a falling out, Jensen, up at Will’s place when you shot up the house.”

“That’s not Nick. Nuh uh.”

“We pulled him out of the river this morning. There’s a blow to the head roughly the size of a fist on the back of his head. I’m guessing he was already dead when you dumped him in the river.”

“I didn’t do that. I don’t kill anyone that doesn’t deserve it. Nick’s my pal from prison.”

“Get up before I drag you out. We’re taking you to the station, and you’d better start telling me the real truth before I take your claim to kill people that deserve it seriously. You’re finished, Jensen, and everything you say right now can and will be used against you.”

“I swear I didn’t kill him. Nick just happened to come here--we never went anywhere. He just told me to say that. He stopped by after he heard Melanie was gone and you had him on our radar. I was just doing him a solid. That’s it. Anyone else who went through what we did would do the same.”

“You seriously think anyone would lie for someone who was beating the crap out of his fiance?”

“I don’t know anything about any of that. Nick was here, I know that. We drank a little, I fell asleep. I don’t know anything about my paint cans or anything else. Is he really dead?”

Dumbass, Hope thinks, but not a killer. Not in this case, anyway.

“Get up. I’m bringing you in, so you can tell them everything. If you don’t want me to take your earlier claim seriously, you’re gonna get the hell up. And change your damn shoes. I won’t tolerate the smell of puke. Everything you’re currently wearing is going to be evidence. If they find paint, or even a trace of Nick’s blood on you, you’re under arrest.”

“I just did a friend a solid, like anyone else from prison would. I didn’t do anything. I didn’t kill Nicky.”

Hope believes him, this time anyway. But that doesn’t mean she can’t shake him down a little. If Jensen knows anything, at all, Hope’s gonna bleed him dry.

She can’t even bring herself to be remorseful.


	68. Chapter 68

When the crew finally shows up with Shawn, Eric already has the pasta salad chilling and a pitcher of lemonade ready.

Sonny walks right over to Chad.

“I’m wet,” Chad starts, but Sonny doesn’t even hesitate to hug him tight. After hesitating for a second, Chad squeezes back just as hard.

“Jesus Christ, Sonny. Jesus fucking Christ. I never saw--I’m never gonna get it out. When I--when I got close, grabbed him, he turned over. I saw his face...”

“Dude, you need to sit down.”

“I-I have some dry clothes in my car. Anywhere I can change?”

“Of course.”

Sonny waits while Chad grabs his clothes, then lets Chad inside to the lower level, past Will’s home gym, home theater, and finally the full bathroom.

“Hot shower. No rush,” Sonny tells him, then grabs his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Chad.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You jumped in the river, thinking you were saving someone. And when you saw he was dead, you still pulled him to shore. That’s what a good man does.”

As Chad’s eyes get watery, he shakes his head. “I’ve never liked the bastard, not even joking. I liked him even less when he convinced Melanie to dump me for him. But the icing on the cake was when I heard he was beating the crap out of her. But I…”

“That makes you an even better man. Take all the time you need.”

Sonny goes back to find his crew at the table, all in complete shock. And Shawn sitting so closely to Ciara, you’d think they were twins.

“Is she okay?” Lani wrings her hands, letting them go and twisting. “She hasn’t said anything since...she pulled Nick’s body out of the river.”

“She needs time.”

“Tell me what the hell is going on!” Ben demands. “Because I’m still completely in the dark!”

“So am I, but I can tell you what I know.”

Sonny refuses to sit down, can’t even imagine it. “Someone--the assumption is Nick--shot at the balcony doors to the bedroom.”

“Bastard.” Ben bangs a fist on the table, making Lani flinch. “That fucking bastard! I know you’re supposed to have respect for the dead, but right now? Fuck that.”

“Where’s Will?” Shawn demands. “Did he get hurt?”

“No, no. He went to grab Melanie’s sister in law. They’re both going to Chicago to tell her. Before Nick showed up here, he painted some crap on Will’s office building, and my house.”

“Nick was no good.” Lani mutters. “Never was, now never will. We’re gonna help you fix it, Sonny, so don’t waste another second worrying about it.”

“I’m in.” Shawn says. “We’re gonna fix this. But...how did he get in the river?”

Sonny takes a deep breath. “They found--actually, Will and Benji found where he was shooting, and...you can actually see the police tape from here. There’s blood. He had to have a partner, and whoever it was had to have hit him with a rock, dragged him away, then dumped him in the river.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Ben adds.

“No, you’re right. It doesn’t.”

“Actually it does.” Shawn chimes in. “Probably the only two things that do.”

Interested, Sonny pulls up a chair, looking into Shawn’s Brady blue eyes. “What two things are you talking about?”

“He was most likely drunk--there’s definitely gonna be a tox screening that will confirm it. But everyone knows he’s an angry drunk. Mom had to lock him up a few times for drunk and disorderly misconduct.”

Eric pours some more lemonade. “How would you know about that?”

“I’m not an idiot, Dad.” he says, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, only another mean drunk would be stupid enough to follow him out here. Maybe he wanted to have a turn shooting, they fought over it, and whammo. Bet he didn’t even mean to kill the guy either. But then he did, and what else are you gonna do? Gotta get rid of the body. What he should’ve done was just leave the body there, but we’re talking about someone who was most likely just as drunk, if not more, than Nick.”

“Well, when you look at it like that,” Ciara considers. “That makes sense. What about the other way, genius?”

Shawn smiles, then shrugs. “Okay, so first he tags Will’s office, then Sonny’s house. Someone catches him. Maybe someone worse than Nick, and they follow him all the way here.”

“Again, why would he kill Nick?” Sonny asks.

“You don’t need an excuse to be mean, just an opportunity. At least that’s what Mom says. But still, Mom, Ethan, and all of them will figure it out. That’s their job.”

“Exactly.” Standing next to his son, Eric squeezes his shoulders. “That’s their job.”

“If it’s the latter...” Ciara hesitates, drawing a finger down her glass of lemonade. “They’re worse than Nick. I wouldn’t know anyone like that. Except...is Mom absolutely sure WIll’s--I mean Stefano DiMera is still locked up?”

“That was the first thing she checked.” Now Eric puts a hand on Ciara’s shoulder. “He’s not going anywhere, so don’t you worry about that.”

But isn’t that the real worry, Sonny thinks, just the idea of someone in Salem that’s even worse than Nick Fallon?

And a murderer.

After taking Jensen’s clothes into evidence, Hope leaves him with another officer, along with orders to shower, change, and wait in lockup. Damned if she has to interview the dumbass while the dumbass still stinks of who knows what.

She still has to notify the rest of Nick’s family, and won’t that be fun?

Knowing the Fallons, she takes Ethan and Rafe as backup.

Joshua Fallon answers the door, sneering.

“I told you before, if you’re here about my son, and I’ll tell you again, he’s not here. You’re not allowed inside without a warrant.”

“We’re here to tell you we found Nick, Mr. Fallon.”

Something shifts in his gaze. “Okay, so then you know Nick wasn’t there when that lying cunt he married said he hit her. Never hit that worthless trash in his life. Seems to me she would’ve deserved it.”

Joshua gets up in Hope’s face. “You have my son behind bars, I’ll see to it they take their badge.”

Hope ignores the threat altogether, “Mr. Fallon, I’m sorry to tell you that your son, Nick, is dead. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“That’s a lie.”

“We recovered his body earlier this morning in the Salem River.”

From behind Joshua, Jessica Blake starts screaming, “Not my son! Not him!”

“Shut the hell up. She’s lying.”

Hope takes out her phone, showing the crime scene photo. “Is this your son, Mr. Fallon?”

She sees it, the exact second when the reality and grief that comes right after the denial. Joshua stumbles, dropping onto the porch.

“My son is dead?”

“Yes. I’m very sorry.”

Grief turns into anger in an instant, that gets Joshua back on his feet, “It was you!”

Before he can lunge at Hope, Ethan already has his arms pulled behind him. The man has plenty of muscles to go with the anger. Rafe even has to step in, to help hold him back.

“We really don’t want to manhandle you to the ground, Mr. Fallon.” Rafe says. “And we really don’t want to put you in cuffs.”

“He was already dead when we found him.” Hope says calmly. “The Salem PD didn’t kill your son.”

“Then who the hell was it? My son is a good swimmer! There’s no way in hell he fell in that river and drowned. Who the hell did it?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out.”

“Like hell you are! I know how you all operate. You don’t give a crap about me or any of our family. You never have.”

“I’m doing my job. Right now I need you to sit down, and calm yourself down. You’re not going to do anyone any good if you’re arrested for attacking a cop.”

“I’ll tell you who it is. That no good faggot DiMera that goes by Horton. The one that took my son’s fiance from him, filled her head with lies. You have to arrest him, do you understand me? Before me and the rest of the family find him.”

“I’d be very careful with your threats, sir. Now sit down before I make you.” Hope jerks her head towards Rafe, giving the signal to go inside where Jessica Blake is still crying loudly.

“Will would never hurt your son.”

“You would say that.”

“I know. When your son was murdered, Will was protecting Sonny Kiriakis and himself from the gunshots Nick put through the exterior doors of Will’s bedroom, and calling the cops.”

“Bull. My son wouldn’t do that. That Horton trash, he’d lie and you’d swear on anyone’s grave he’s telling the truth.”

“We found Nick’s gun, recently used, in the car he took from Jensen, and pulled bullets out of Will’s bedroom wall. We already know they’re a match. We found Nick’s prints all over the wheel, with the paint he used to tag Will’s office building, as well as Sonny’s house right before he fired the gun. The paint wasn’t even dry. Since Will had about 6 cops inside his house around the same time Nick’s body was dumped in the river, he has a solid alibi.”

“You could lie, and they’d all back you up. All of you cops are utterly useless.”

“You know that’s bull. You know it too. The time’s logged on the 911 call. Jensen is in lockup right now, and from where we found him when we picked him up, he and Nick got drunk, Jensen passed out, before Nick decided to grab some paint cans, his gun, and go on his little revenge spree.”

Hope crouches, looking into Joshua’s eyes. “Think long and hard about this. If you and everyone else hadn’t lied to me yesterday, your son would be alive. We’d be seeing him in court, and he might’ve been in jail, but at least he’d be alive.”

“Go to hell.”

“Yep.” Hope stands. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”

She sees the hand coming, and only has half a second to react. She lets it hit, takes the palm right to the face.

“All the prompting I needed. You’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer.” With Ethan’s help, she gets Joshua on the ground, putting him in cuffs, while Rafe has to quickly shift from comforting a grieving mom to restraining a crazy woman.


	69. Chapter 69

After a very long and hard hour with Melanie, Will finally drives back to Salem. A quick text to Sonny tells him Sonny’s been cleared to go back to his house--with his entire crew, Will’s more than relieved to hear.

Satisfied, Will drives back into town to look at the damage to his own place.

He pulls up, gets out of the car, standing on the sidewalk as he looks at the slander behind the police tape.

Worse, Will thinks, so much worse than just a stupid broken window--and fixing this is going to be a real nightmare. Several people stop, offering their sympathy or supportive anger.

He looks over when he hears his name, waiting as Allie hurries over to where he is. All she does is open her arms and pull him in.

“I talked to Uncle Eric and Ethan. They told me everything. I’m sorry.” She pulls back, but keeps her arms around Will. “First and foremost, I’m thanking whoever’s listening that you and Sonny are okay. Then I’m worried and pissed about everything else.”

“We’ve been through way worse than this. It’s just a little paint.”

She lifts her eyebrows. “Don’t hold back on my account.”

“I am sorry he’s dead. Most of that’s because I wish I could’ve taken a few swings at him myself. If he’d just been just a tad more sober, I have no idea. But I know Sonny prefers to sleep closest to the door.”

“Where is he? I should go see him. I can move some stuff around.”

“He’s at his house--the crew’s with him too, and Shawn. He wanted to help.”

“Such a good kid. We’re all going to help, Will. Please tell him we mean that.”

“I will. Look, we’re going to get a lot of attention around here, and I appreciate the support, but I don’t think I can handle it all at once right now.”

“Understood.” Allie hugs him one last time, stepping back to look at the building again. “He’s never had taste.”

That definitely gets a laugh out of Will as he goes to buy a crapload of paint.

With that handled, he goes to the police station next. He finds Hope in her office, writing a report.

Turning his head, Will sees the bruise on her face. “Don’t try and tell me you ran into a door.”

“Nick’s dear old dad has his own little panic room in the holding cell. Want some coffee?”

“I can’t take another cup, but thanks anyway.” Will sits. “Melanie’s really messed up, but she has her brother and sister in law to lean on. She’s gonna stay there for a few days. Longer if you think it’s necessary.”

“One day at a time.” The chair squeaks, as Hope leans back. “We have Nick’s prints on the gun, Jensen’s car, even scattered all over your office building. And Sonny’s place. He was never too smart when he got drunk.”

“Won’t argue with that.”

“It’s gonna take longer with the DNA at your office and Sonny’s place. Won’t take long for the blood match or tox screen, and cause of death. And I got a pretty damn good timeline from Jensen.”

“I’m guessing he isn’t a suspect?”

“I really wish I could say it was, but I can’t. He was asleep on his living room couch when I picked him up. We’re analyzing his clothes, but there’s no paint and blood that we can see. None of his prints on the rock, but definitely blood. He’s more calculating than Nick, and definitely would’ve thought to wipe the murder weapon if it was him--and the gun doesn’t show any sign of that.”

“Nick showed up there around noon yesterday.” Hope goes on. “He walked there. Jensen’s wife confirmed it. Jensen swears they never left the house. Swears it had to be around two or three when he fell asleep.”

“So Nick just took the paint and stole Jensen’s car.”

“Looks like it.”

“No one else dropped by?”

“Not according to Jensen, and he wouldn’t have lied, not unless it suited him.”

“He could’ve bumped into someone.” Will speculates. “Or someone with a grudge--there’s plenty there--decided to check out what he was doing. Killing him is too...”

“Extreme?” Hope finishes for him. “Lot of different ways it could go. Points the gun at someone else, they bash his skull in. He’s with someone, trips and hits his head on the rock, other guy panics and dumps him in the river. Or someone gets a little revenge, takes advantage.”

“I’m going to figure it out, Will."

Will still remembers very clearly Hope sat with him on his bed in his cell in Statesville on the worst night of his life. “I know you are.”

“Please be careful, alright? Josh is convinced you’re the one that killed Nick.”

“How exactly did I do that while also being upstairs trying to stop us from getting shot--and calling 911? And bringing the cops inside no less than 5 minutes later?”

“Facts and proof. None of that matters to him right now. Or to any of them. He’s going to make bail, so watch out.”

“I want to talk to him.”

“Will.”

“Does he want to turn it into a story?”

Hope lets out a halfhearted laugh. “He wouldn’t be caught dead with one--until he needs one. Right now, it’s death to journalism, which includes you.”

“I want to talk to him. With you observing. If he really thinks I killed Nick, Hope, Sonny would be collateral damage. He almost already is.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll take you.”

Hope does take him, unlocking the door to the holding cells. Jensen, back to the doors, snores soundly.

Josh sits up the second he sees Will.

“You bastard.” Josh reaches out an arm, trying to grab Will. “I swear to God if I wasn't behind bars right now, I’d kill you with my bare hands.”

“Threatening someone in front of a cop’s going to make you lose bail.”

“Take that bail and shove it up your ass. I have family.”

“That’s right, you do.” Will agrees, holding his gaze. “I’d suggest you consider keeping the rest of them out of jail. Here’s what really happened. I had hundreds of people at my place last night, all the way up to midnight. I’m seeing Sonny Kiriakis--”

“That pervert helped you kill my son?”

All his years in Chicago has that falling right off of him. “We went to sleep around one this morning. Around 4-10 after, actually, cause I checked the clock when I pulled Sonny to the floor--I woke up to the sound of gunfire and glass breaking. The doors to my balcony were broken.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you did it to yourself. Trying to make my son look bad.”

Just laying out the facta, not letting that get to him, Will continues. “I told Sonny to stay down, go to my closet, got a baseball bat on the off chance the shooter got inside. We called 911. Commissioner, what time is that call logged in?”

“4:15.”

“That’s it. I stepped on the glass. There’s probably a few photos of my bloody footprints. I was angry, I wanted to go out there and beat the crap out of whoever it was with my bat, but Sonny talked me down. He helped fix up my foot, then the cops showed up. When was that, Commissioner?”

“4:20.”

“Think about that for a second. How exactly could I have possibly gotten to Nick, and his gun? Why would I take him to my house, in the woods, and bash his skull in with a rock if I have his gun and wanted to hurt him? And how exactly could I have dumped his body in the river when my house was stuffed with cops?”

“You wanted to kill him!”

“No, I wanted justice, in the form of a judge and jury. And someone took that away from me. And I want to know who.”

“You were fucking that cunt he was engaged to.”

“Oh my God, _how_? You and I know damn well everyone in your family was watching her every second of the day. I’m gay, and I’m in love. I will promise you something right here and now. You do anything to her, I’m coming after you.”

“Will.”

Will waves Hope off. “That’s the only way to get through his thick skull. Melanie is Sonny’s father’s client, no more no less. He’s going to give her the absolute best. But when it comes to the man I love, it’s me you’ll have to answer to. Stay the hell away from me and my family, Mr. Fallon, and use some common sense. Whatever you might think of me, you know as well as me there’s no logical way I can be in two places at once.”

With that, Will walks out, waiting while Hope locks the door again.

“I don’t think I convinced him.”

Hope sighs. “You got him to think, which is more than he was doing when I brought him in. A bit drastic to try and drag you down, and he’s starting to see that. You’re still a why in his head. Be careful.”

“You too, Hope. Goes both ways.”

“Part of my job. Go home.” Hope pats him on the back. “Go eat something.”


	70. Chapter 70

Will does go home, thinking he needs to hole up the bedroom doors, call the insurance company, see when he can replace the doors.

Holing up means buying wood, which means he needs to borrow a truck.

Maybe he needs to buy a truck for himself. Not like he’ll be driving his BMW in the winter anyway.

One more thing to consider.

He takes a detour to Sonny’s, trying not to panic when he doesn’t see Sonny, the crew, or the trucks. All he sees is the santorum of obscenities and slander on his house.

Will pulls out his phone, texting,

_Where’d you go?_

_On a job. Olson/Anderson place. We got cleared to work. Hbu?_

_Your place. Can I borrow the truck?_

_Uh, sure?_

_I have to go buy some wood to hole up the doors. Gonna take some time to replace them._

_We holed them up before we left. I went to your office before coming over here. He had no taste. Chad would paint over it for you, but I’m keeping him occupied. I’ll send you the name and number of guys he’d recommend would do it fast if you can’t. Same guys that painted for you before._

_Got it. What about your place?_

_Soon. I’m not at the square. Go home, eat something, make some calls._

_Are you okay?_

_I’m better than I was. I’m supposed to be home by 7. Late start and all._

_I’ll be there. Love you._

_Aww, first I love you text. Somehow, I love you too. Later._

Will puts his phone away, looking around. Wishing he could do more for Sonny.

Then it hits him, and it’s so easy. So unbelievably right. He goes home to take care of it, makes his calls, eats some pasta salad.

When Sonny comes home, a little after 7, the outdoor table’s all set up--with flowers Will prays he’s allowed to cut. And wine.

“Check this out.”

Sonny checks out the table, as Benji runs over to Will, like they haven’t seen each other in ages.

“Thought we both deserved something nice.”

Sonny’s eyes shift to Will’s. “That we do.”

“I made a veggie platter.”

“No way.”

Will points an accusing finger at Sonny. “Way. Thought it would be a nice start to our little three course meal.”

“So what’re the other courses?”

“Burgers and Twinkies. The veggie platter’s a nod to adulthood.”

“I’m in love.”

Will grabs Sonny tightly, kissing him hard. “You’d better be.”

Sonny rests a head on Will’s shoulder. “Let me go get a shower, change so I actually look like I’m worth going to all this trouble for.”

“I got everything set up in the living room, the one facing the front.”

Sonny leans back to look at Will, then when Sonny’s eyes go blurry, just lowers his head to Will’s shoulder.

“Thought we both deserved that too.” Will adds.

Because Sonny can’t trust his voice right now, he tries nodding, then tightens his grip.

“Hold on a second.” Sonny gets out.

Will does, hanging onto the quiet night with the adorable little dog sniffing both their shoes.

“You have this way about you, Will. It’s the best way. I told myself to get over it. Holing up the doors, the bullets. It’s not because of the room, it’s because of the guy that did it. I loved that room.”

“You’ll love it again. But right now, we have other ones.”

More steady now, Sonny pulls back, smiling at Will. “Now I got you all hot and bothered, and probably got some stone dust all over you. You should join me in the shower.”

“I love your ideas. Let me feed the dog.”

“He already ate.” Taking Will’s hand, Sonny heads inside. “Later he can have a you-know-what while I try your veggie platter.”

Once in the shower, Sonny washes off the grime and dirt of the whole day. With the joining of slippery, wet bodies, he washes off the tightness that had followed him around the whole day.

Sonny feels it all fall away with the water down the drain. Even despite knowing it will come back, maybe even because he knows it, he can let himself disappear inside Will, with what they give and take from each other.

Under the water, skin covered in soap, hands everywhere and sliding everywhere, hands buried in hair, they push the ugliness back to where it belongs, grabbing the happiness with open arms.

They keep the door firmly shut on reality, sending Benji into a frenzy with a treat. Lighting candles, pouring wine, they talk about anything and everything except for what had disturbed their peace early in the morning.

When the light goes soft, the dog sleeping under the table, Will pours some more wine.

“Seriously?”

Sonny sips, nodding. “Absolutely. What about you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Start by telling me about how Melanie’s doing.”

“I’m really glad her brother was there, and even more so that I took her sister in law. She’s going to need both of them while she goes through her survivor’s guilt.”

“She’s been beaten the crap out of, in every sense of the phrase, so that’s just a knee jerk reaction. There’s plenty of men and women in my support group who were so quick to blame themselves. My kid fell down at the park--my fault, I’m a bad parent. It started raining when it never said in the forecast, so it has to be my fault.”

“I saw that with so many victims in Chicago, for anonymous interviews.”

“That’s why you there helped her too.”

“I can only hope. Anyway, she’s gonna stay in Chicago for a little longer. She’s terrified of the Fallons, as she should be.”

“Do you really think they’d try retaliating against her?”

There’s no reason, Will thinks, to try and soften the blow.

“Payback is all some people have. Sonny, you have to know, at least for now, they’re all getting it in their heads that it was me who orchestrated the whole thing, and killed Nick Fallon.”

“That doesn’t even come close to making sense.”

“It doesn’t need to. I think Joshua Fallon’s starting to see that, but that doesn’t mean they won’t retaliate. And that means you too. Not just because you were here too, or because we’re together, but because Nick tagged your place.”

“I already know that. I think he had a problem with me before. For all I know he was the one that broke into my place last time.”

Frowning, Will looks at his wine. “Doesn’t sound like his MO. Not the breaking in part, but the fact that he didn’t take anything valuable, or break anything. But...you could connect him jacking off in the paint to him stealing your underwear. He already hated me,” Will considers, “because I wouldn’t interview him for a story. So...maybe?”

Will reaches over to take Sonny’s hand, “Regardless, I want you to be careful.”

“I want us both to.”

“I want us both to too. In the meantime, Hope’s already got a match for his prints on your house, my office, the car, the paint, et cetera. The bastard Nick was crashing with gave Hope a pretty good timeline, up until he passed out. Car, paint stuff. They’re gonna have cause of death, ballistics, and a tox screen pretty quick. DNA’s gonna take longer, but they already had Nick’s on file.”

Sonny was already thinking about that the whole work day. “But that doesn’t tell us who killed him.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Reading Will’s face, Sonny taps his hand, “You already have some ideas, don’t you, Mr. Spectator?”

“Maybe.”

Sonny gestures for him to continue, “Don’t keep us all in suspense.”

“Fine. Nick wasn’t exactly popular in the neighborhood, not outside his family, and a few people he knew from prison like Jensen. Pissed a lot of people off when he got Melanie to dump Chad for him. And he was known for hitting the bottle, starting fights, or trying to feel up someone else’s girlfriend. He was famous for harassing people like the Turnbaums, going after what he thought was rightfully his. There’s a guy further along that same block that swears Nick and someone else poisoned his dog.”

“Jesus!” Sonny only rubs a foot over the sleeping Benji in response.

“There wasn’t any proof, but--Hope let me see Nick’s file--he was insistent it was him. So not a lot of people took kindly to Nick, as you can imagine.”

“So you’re thinking someone saw him coming up here, followed him, saw an opportunity for payback and took it?”

“That’s one theory.”

“There’s another one that has you seriously worried, huh?”

“Yep. Stefano DiMera.”

“He’s behind bars.” Upset, Sonny’s quick to speak up. “Hope checked. Eric said--”

“Stefano is locked up.” WIll confirms, “but that doesn’t mean he wasn't in on it. He spent a whole decade in prison. He knows how the place operates. Who’s to say he didn’t make a deal with someone on the inside who was up for parole, or knows someone on the outside? Someone who’d show up at Salem, watch everyone’s routine, look for a way in--maybe break into your house and know not to leave any damning evidence, and not to leave too much of a mess behind.”

Even just in theory makes Sonny shiver. “But...that still doesn’t answer the question, why Nick?”

“Let’s add to that theory. Victim of opportunity. Kill him, cause chaos. It takes real brains, if we go with someone who's a straight up bad guy, not to take the gun, or leave prints again, or break in and go after us. A smart guy would know the cops would be here in minutes. A smart guy knows to wait, wait for another opportunity. If something happens to either one of us now, who would Hope be looking at first?”

“The Fallons.”

“Exactly. And while she does that, the real killer walks away scott-free. I know I put more stock in the first one, but we can’t completely rule out the second one, not yet.”

“Actually the second one’s closer to one Shawn had.”

Surprised, Will stops mid pour. “Shawn came up with a theory too?”

“A few, and some of them are actually pretty close to what you said. Bad people don’t need an excuse, they just need an opening.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

Sonny looks towards the hills, the setting sun. “I love it here. I know I haven’t been back for long, but I love it so much. How it looks, how it feels, the people I’ve met and reconnected with. I know there’s bad people here too, because there’s bad people everywhere. But that’s why the Fallons are the next best thing to straight up outsiders.”

Sonny looks at Will, lifting his glass. “We’re going to make it, Will. We’ll cover up the bad. We’ll always know it’s there, always will be, but the difference is we’re not letting it win. And to prove it, I'm going to use Forsythia.”

Will spits out his drink, then clears his throat. 

“Wouldn’t that be yellow?”

“Yep. And the door and trim? Amethyst. Bold and happy, middle finger raising colors. What’re you doing for your office?”

“White. A lot of it.”

“Seriously?” Sonny gestures dismissively, waving off the white. “You can do better than that.”

“It’s a magazine office.”

Sonny leans in, “Is journalism boring?”

“I’m not using Forsythia.”

“Actually I was thinking more navy blue, and gray for the door and trim. I can show you my paint fan.”

“I already bought white.”

“I’m sure they’ll take it back and exchange it, cause it’s white. Take the opportunity the bad’s given you, Will, and really say something. I can show you,” Sonny says again, “After we finish up our wine and walk Benji.”

“White is clean and classy.” Will insists as they get up, and Benji jumps up like an alarm just went off.

“Booooring.”

“The painter starts tomorrow.”

“And I’d bet they’d side with me, if they have any taste at all.”

Something tells Will this isn’t just your run-of-the-mill dog walking.

Later, when Sonny shows him the paint fan, as promised, Will’s already exchanging the damn paint first thing in the morning.

While Will and Sonny take Benji for a walk, the man that came to Salem and killed Nick Fallon takes himself for one. As he walks right by Will’s office building, he makes a point to stop and gape.

“Awful, is what it is.”

Just like he’d planned, one of the locals stopped to chat.

“Completely awful.” He even manages to sound shocked.

“You just a visitor?”

“Yes I am.”

“I have family in Salem. I know for a fact that this isn’t the norm.”

“Well I’d hope not.”

“Honest to God.” He smiles at him, a baby girl. Maybe he’ll chat Baby Girl up, have some wine. Maybe he’ll even kill her.

So many ideas, so little time.

“I actually work here too. Office of the Salem Spectator. I’m an intern. Zoe Browning.” she tells him, friendly as anything.

“Drake Ramoray. Nice to meet you. But...” He looks back at the paint smeared, calculating how long it would be before the sun would set, how long it would take to lull Baby Girl into a false sense of security. “You’re not worried.”

“Maybe I should be, but the guy that did it...” He actually watches as she holds back. “He’s not coming back anytime soon. It’s really a nice town, Mr. Ramoray. I hope you have a really nice visit.”

“Believe me, I already am. Say, you know somewhere that has a really good meal, good glass of wine? I’m starving.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Her smile gets bigger, into the muddled gray eyes.

He knows he looks like a door to door salesman, one that’s taking a break to gear up for a big pitch. He’s spent so much time carefully planning that look--dying his hair, getting more respectable suits.

He wears a very professional business suit, one he’d had tailor made to hug every inch of his body.

He even has a briefcase, holding several Encyclopedias and a copy of _The Old Man and the Sea_ (like he’d ever be caught dead with that) as well as his wallet and fake ID, and the gun he’d stolen from his mom’s private collection.

“Can’t go wrong with Doug’s--a few blocks away, other side of the Square.”

“Sounds good to me. Hey,” he starts again, only to have himself cut off when another baby girl heads towards them.

“Zo! Sorry I’m late. They just texted. Apparently everyone else is already there, and are sitting at the booth as we speak. Sorry.” Just like Zoe, she smiles at him easily. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Nope, just pointing Mr. Ramoray towards Doug’s.”

“One of these days I’m gonna have a real date there, not just bar food. We gotta get going.”

No fun for him, he thinks. For the time being.

Maybe he’ll get another chance.

He keeps walking, deciding what the hell. Maybe he’ll even strike up another conversation, talk to another baby girl.

Anyone would do.


	71. Chapter 71

Though he’s still not convinced, Will exchanges the paint, working through the morning while the crew covers Nick’s disgusting words with primer.

He has to go through the whole story--the CliffNotes version--with everyone he interviewed, accepting whatever anger they had on his behalf before focusing on the real reason they came to him.

He looks up from his notes when Richard comes in.

“Just thought I’d remind you you need to take off for your appointment with Muriel Boskins.”

“And her cats. I’m getting ready for it, and today’s article about her newest litter.”

“One of them sent flowers for her birthday, so they’re roped in. Two hours. Take a very long lunch when you’re done.”

“I just might actually do it.”

“Call T or Kaye, see if they can meet up with you.”

Will cocks his head, “Are you actually worried about me?”

“Will, I love you like you’re one of my own. And you know Joshua Fallon was released on bail.”

“He’s not gonna try and gun me down in broad daylight, Richard.”

“Just do it. Please?”

“Fine. I swear, y’all are taking over my life.”

“It’s what we do. Speaking of which, try thinking about bringing Zoe on board next summer. She’s perfect, and once she gets her degree, she’d be the perfect employee.”

“I actually already thought about it, so don’t go thinking it was all your idea.”

Richard smiles, smug. “I took the paint crew out for a drink not too long ago. They showed me what they’re painting with. I thought you were sticking with white.”

“I know. I should’ve stuck to that, huh?”

“Only if you wanted to be 100% ordinary, which was exactly what you were thinking, because someone at the hardware store told me you bought all that white first, then brought it when they opened this morning for that strong blue and really nice gray.”

“Show off.” Will says, then starts loading up his bag.

“It was Sonny, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m trying to give you credit.” Richard waits a second. “Because you had enough sense to hook up with someone with good vision and taste.”

“That I will gladly take. Now quit lollygagging. You don’t get paid to mingle with your boss.”

Amused, Richard hugs him. “Call T or Kaye--both, even. Do that for me, will you? Please?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Will goes out the back to avoid the paint crew, texts T--what the hell, Kaye too--as he circles towards his car.

After he deals with Muriel Boskins and her new litter of kittens, and her puff piece, he wants a seriously strong drink to go with his lunch. But he makes himself not.

Since both Kaye and T are available--he’s pretty sure Richard all but made them--he decides a delicious lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup inside the yellow walls--is that Forsythia?--of the eatery.

“Grilled cheese, huh?” T looks at the menu as he swallows down some strawberry lemonade. “Gabi’s starting to talk about going full vegan. Not happening. I’ll take one too.”

“Oh to be young and be able to eat a grilled cheese special. What the hell. Make it three.”

“Will do. Yours is on the house, Will. To show my support.”

“You don’t--”

“Too late.” The waitress taps his shoulder, and leaves to put in their order.

“Vultures picking on a dead carcass.”

“Least I don’t have to pay for your lunch and make it worse.”

“Hey.” T waves in front of Will. “I’m here. Just to be done with the dead carcass before we eat? Rumor has it the rest of the family’s coming back for the funeral. The arrested one’s getting a day pass, with a guard, then going back. Other one has bereavement leave or something.”

“Perfect.”

“And Jensen showed up at the hospital last night with a mangled up face and a broken wrist. Said he fell, but that’s bullshit. You know someone beat the crap out of him.”

Will shakes his head, not surprised at all. “Blaming Jensen is stupid, but typical of the Fallons. Let’s just hope whoever it was had his fun.”

“But you don’t really believe that.” Will says to Kaye.

“People like that are always pointing fingers. They’ll definitely wind up behind bars eventually. Let’s hope it’s sooner.”

“Dude, how could they not know it wasn’t you?”

“Yeah, how can they not know?”

But how can they not know it wasn’t Jensen either, Will thinks. But then again, they’re in for a real surprise if they decide to go after Will next.

Will really hates knowing part of him is almost daring them to try.

The second it starts raining, Sonny and his crew grab the tools and head for the trucks.

Julie Williams pops out the back door, gesturing.

“Come on up, have a seat. You’re being treated to my home squeezed lemonade and angel food cake.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Sonny starts, then changes his mind. “Did you say angel food cake?”

“Secret family recipe. All of you sit, take a load off. Rain shouldn’t last long.”

“This is the perfect place to watch a storm.” Ben says. “I really appreciate it.”

“Saves Bob from not eating too many sweets.”

“Can I help you, Ms. Olson?” Lani scuffs her boots on the mat.

“Yes you may. How’s your daddy?” Julie asks as they go inside. 

Sonny sits on the glider, because Ben’s right. It really is the perfect place to watch a storm. It blows against the trees, moving along the water of the river that goes bright with the lightning.

And with it, the air goes ridiculously cold.

As Ben takes a chair, Sonny pats the spot next to him for Chad.

“You okay?”

“Yep.” Still, he lets out a long sigh, as he stares out at the river. “I guess I’ll be thinking about it for a long time. I just wish they’d catch the guy that did it.”

“Here’s what I think.” Ben leans forward. “I think Nick had one of his lowlife friends, maybe even in his own family, to go and cause problems in Will’s place. Drunk, they argue. One dumbass picks up a rock, hits the other. Never meant to kill him, but it’s already done, so he covers his tracks. And you know something else? Whoever actually did it was dumb enough to think the cops would write it off as an accidental drowning.”

Sonny doesn’t say anything for a moment, calculating Ben said more in that whole minute than he has all week.

“That’s what Abi thinks too.” Chad adds. “That it was an accident, instead of a murder. Drunk idiot.”

Despite not agreeing, seeing the idea’s clearly comforting to Chad, Sonny doesn’t object.

“Anyway...” Chad lets out another long breath, as the pitter patter of rain turns into banging of steel drums. “I’m getting married.”

“You’re--” Sonny smacks his arm. “When did this happen?”

“Just proposed last night.”

“And you were sitting on it this whole time before telling us about it now?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.” But it does pull a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile out of Chad. “I didn’t want to propose without a ring. I got it in my head that women will all but insist on a ring when there’s a proposal involved, but I didn’t have time. Then yesterday, after...all of that, I started thinking about how life never goes the way you plan, and I had to do something. So I went out and got her a ring. She tells me she loves it, so looks like I did right by her. I asked, she said yes.”

“What’s this now?” Julie, carrying a pitcher full of yellow drink, steps outside with Lani right behind her. “Chad DiMera, do you mean to tell me you finally wised up and asked my Abigail to marry you?”

“Yes I did.”

“Well, that’s wonderful.” She sets the pitcher down, starts pouring lemonade into glasses on Lani’s serving tray. “I’ll bet your family’s thrilled.”

“They are.”

“When’s the day?”

“Abi wants spring, when it’s warm enough to have an outdoor wedding. Both our families are already all over it, so I’m just letting them take over. I might have to miss a few days,” he says to Sonny, “for my wedding and honeymoon.”

“Don’t worry about that for another second.”

“First piece goes to the future groom.” Julie declares, passing Chad a plate with a more than generous plate of angel food cake. “This is the best news, exactly what we need around here.”

Misty eyed, she passed the cake around. “The younger ones, Chad, they don’t know how quickly life passes you by, how you have to hold it all together, the good and bad, to make the memories you want to last forever.”

“Can’t have a rainbow without rain, I always say.”

“Truer words have never been spoken. I love the rain,” she says quietly, “Washes away the bad and the difficult, if only for a little while.”

And, Sonny thinks, isn’t part of the bad stepping out, looking out at the river she loves, and remembering the body fished out of it?

Like she read his mind, Julie turns and smiles. “What you were doing to what used to be a huge pain in my ass is the best thing since the family’s angel food cake.”

“And it’s delicious, ma’am.” Ciara shoves in another bite. “Very delicious.”

“Storm’s letting up.” Lani says. “I’ll take the dishes in before going back to work.”

“Don’t worry about that, hon. I’m just going to sit out here, enjoy the cold for a while, and watch you work.”

Sonny thinks about storms, grabbing all the parts, about the simple gesture of offering cake as he digs another hole.

The sun breaks through the clouds, turning the damp air to steam.

Boats come gliding down, kids jumping from rafts, lighting up the world with laughing and giggling.

Death itself can’t stop life from moving on, not permanently.

It’s life that’s running through Sonny’s head as he plants a trio of blue oat grass almost as much for their name as the foliage and flowers.

It’ll bloom fairly early, he thinks, start showing off in winter, then show off their color when spring shows up around the corner.

“What’s on your mind, Sonny?” Lani asks.

“Just thinking regardless of how late it is, but we’re gonna have quite the show next year.”

“It’s already pretty right now.”

“You’re right, and with that, we’re done for the day. But come next spring, and the summer after that, and well into the fall, Jesus, we’re gonna have our work cut out for us.”

Sonny steps back to check the positioning, and, pleased with the results, pulls out his phone to take some pictures. Walking along the river rock Ben and Chad had spread themselves, Sonny takes some from a different angle before looking out, trying to imagine how it looks from the water.

He sees a sweet little dinghy glide by, one guy aboard. Short, light hair shines with the sun.

When he raises a hand in a half wave, Sonny feels a chill, despite the humidity.

But all Sonny does is wave back in response before turning back again.

"Alright, gang." Weirdly, his throat feels like it's strangling him. Sonny pulls out his water bottle to help. "Now it's time for cleanup. Let's knock it out of the park."

Sonny finds himself staring back at the river, but whoever was on that dinghy had already moved on.

Laughing is what has the man calling himself Ramoray almost falling overboard.

He actually waved at him! If he'd had his gun on him, he could've shot him point blank--and everyone with him too.

Maybe those stupid teenagers too, screaming as they jump off that stupid raft just to do it again.

Maybe putting a bullet in his head isn't the plan, but just knowing he had an opportunity thrills him to no end.

You'll get yours, you bastard, he thinks, along with the humor. Your time will come, you and that worthless excuse for a journalist.

And anyone else that tries to stop him.

If there's one thing he's learned during his time in prison, it's that he likes what it did to him, when he spilt blood for the first time.

A thirst that will never be sated.


	72. Chapter 72

July moves on with heat and summer storms. Tourists keep flocking to Salem for their vacations and reprieves from the big city. They easily go in and out, word of the murder barely even a whisper as they go souveneir shopping.

Primer has the slander on Will’s building completely covered, so people walk by that too, the bold new color finally getting its time to shine.

While he keeps waiting for that axe to fall, knowing it’s only a matter of time, Will moves on.

Which means it doesn’t surprise him to see Hope coming up the driveway on a very lazy Sunday morning while he’s sitting on the front porch, researching SUV’s on his tablet.

Will sets it aside when he sees Hope out of the car.

“Morning, Commissioner.”

“Will.” Her gaze goes straight to the holed up doors. “Still not replaced?”

“They’re coming next week, and my paint crew’s gonna finish up at my office, fix those bullet holes in my bedroom. Want a drink?”

Hope looks at Will’s drink. “Is that coffee iced?”

“Yes it is. Come in. I’ll grab you one.”

“I won’t say no to that. Where’s Sonny?”

“Had a few consults this morning. Should be back before long, if it’s him you came to see.”

“Guy gets around.” Hope notes as Will leads her inside.

“That he does. Maybe that’s why he’s such a sound sleeper. Are you currently on duty?”

“Summer’s kind of an all-hands-on-deck season. Especially this time around.”

“Yep.” Will grabs another glass, filling it with ice. “How’s that treating you?”

“We have a victim no one but his family and his prison buddies liked, drunk, high on pills, out for blood with his skull bashed in on your property before his body’s dumped, already dead, in the river.”

After picking up the room temperature coffee he’d just brewed, Will looks over. “Am I going to need a lawyer?”

“My job would be much, much easier if you did.”

Will pours the coffee over ice, adding milk from the fridge, then handing it over. “If I’d chosen to go out there, I could’ve seen something. Or someone.”

“And you would’ve been shot.”

“That’s true. What do you say to us taking this outside?”

“Can’t say no to that either. Damn, this coffee’s good, Will, iced or not.”

“Thank Sonny for teaching me. And hey, if my journalist job doesn’t work out, why don’t I give barista a go?”

They go back outside, sit down, Will picking up the baseball he’d taken with, rubbing the stitching. “Heard the Fallons are having Nick’s funeral tomorrow.”

“Funeral home. None of them go to church, so this makes that easier. Burying him on the family plot.”

“Still legal, under a few basic guidelines, at least in this state.”

“It is, and as far as this goes, makes more things easier. Talked to everyone I know that had beef with Nick, or just the Fallons in general.”

“Please tell me they paid you overtime.”

Hope huffs out a laugh, drinking her iced coffee. “I’ll admit it took waaaay longer than talking to his so called friends. But with both, it’s not adding up. Turns out Nick had a really bad argument with Milo Harp, and Milo is not the guy to take anything lying down. He wouldn’t think twice about having you disappear under suspicious circumstances. I thought I was onto something, but his alibi checks out. He was in prison after getting arrested for his latest crime spree. Not to mention trying to attack the arresting officer.”

“Don’t think you’ll find an alibi more solid than that one.”

“No, you won’t.” Hope agrees, drinking more coffee, looking out at the hills. “When you were working in Chicago, you’d definitely have some people after you.”

“Part of my job, Hope, just like it is with yours.”

“I know it is. But I need you to think if there’s anything that would’ve brought someone here looking to cause problems.”

“I already have.” Will looks at the baseball, running his thumb over the stitching. “There’s probably a few.”

“I want names, Will.”

“Yep.” Will turns the ball over and over in his hand. “I’ve been thinking about driving to Crest Hill, having a little chat with Stefano.”

“So we’re in agreement on that too. I already talked to the warden. Stefano’s had a few cellmates, and is connected with others. Some are already out. We need to take the bait there too.”

“The truth is, Hope, while it’s not necessarily something he’d come up with himself--he loves being the one to cause the pain--if it’s by his own doing, it’s Sonny I’m worried about. No way would Stefano DiMera just get over being beat up by a gay guy.”

“I’ll make the arrangements, and we’ll talk to him together.”

“I’m okay with that. Let me know, and I’ll work everything around it.”

“I’ll call you. In the meantime, are you actually interviewing those kids that got into a fight after that fender bender?”

“What can I say? Everyone deserves their moment in the spotlight.”

“Reporters.” Hope sighs. “Damn, this coffee’s good.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.”

Hope shakes her head, setting her empty glass down. “I should be going. You know,” she adds as she stands. “Your building in the square looks really nice. Mayor even talked to me about how maybe we should talk to everyone else with a business in the square to think of bolder colors.”

“Always looking on the bright side.”

Hope lifts an eyebrow at that.

“Sonny.” Will smiles, then shrugs. “Trying to hang on.”

“Good luck with that one. I’ll call you.”

“Send my love to Uncle Eric.”

“I always do.”

Will sits, rubbing the baseball.

He’ll send Hope the names from plausible threats, and all the data, but...those actually don’t worry him, if he’s being honest. Instead he can’t help but think of the ones he’s exposed that didn’t retaliate. Who were smart enough, calculating enough to not do so while they wait for the perfect moment to strike.

If Hope thinks she’s eliminated the locals, now’s the time to look back more closely, digging through articles.

He goes inside, switching his tablet for his laptop. He’s got plenty on it for starting what he knows is going to be a long and tedious process.

He’s hoping Sonny will only be gone for another hour or two, and not just because he swore (threatened) to give Will a lesson on garden maintenance lesson the second he showed up. 

Will wants to at least make a dent, make a list or rule out a few possibilities before Sonny comes back.

He doesn’t want the weekend to get...caught in the undertow, Will decides.


	73. Chapter 73

After about 20 minutes, Will hears someone driving up the road, immediately saving his work and closing the file. To cover himself, he pulls back up a car dealership website he’d been looking at before.

But it’s not a truck, nor is it Sonny.

The knee jerk reaction is to grip the ball tighter as the car pulls up to his convertible.

He doesn’t know the man that gets out of the car, not quite, but the first thing he sees is someone tall, built, dressed in a suit and a mop of brown hair, most likely getting there in age.

Antique dealer, Will thinks, just from how he’s dressed and composed.

“Will DiMera--sorry.” he corrects himself. “Horton.”

“That’s me.” Finally figuring it out, Will stands. “Steven Olson, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is. I’m sorry to show up here uninvited, but I just wanted to talk.”

“Sure, come on in. Coffee?”

“That’s a very generous offer, but I’m alright. Nice place you have here. Definitely new since I was last in Salem.”

“Almost a decade old. You haven’t been here in a few years, have you?”

“No, I haven’t. Moved into a dorm at 18 the second I graduated, never came back without a good reason. Still...”

“Still hard to lose family.”

“Even someone you didn’t know that well. I don’t think he was even born yet when I left.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Olson.”

“I’m alright.” he repeats. “I’m not sticking around.” He looks at the baseball Will’s still holding. “I think I saw a few of your games when I was visiting. You still play at all?”

“No, not really.” Will puts the ball down.

“Shame. Mr. Horton.”

“Will.”

“Will, I know what the rest of the family is saying. I know what the police commissioner is saying. I can’t talk to Nick’s ex, because she’s...gone. I’m leaving once the funeral is over, but before I do that, I want to hear what you’re saying.”

“Our cousin’s ex is a good friend. All I can say is she’s safe. It was mandatory she feel safe because, according to her, which she can prove, our cousin was beating her up. Not just the night before the 4th of July, but on a regular basis. She came begging me for help, and I gave it to her.”

“Max Brady’s sister, right? I knew him kind of sort of.”

“Yep, that’s her.”

“They all swear he never touched her, then they go and change it to he never touched her unless she deserved it.” Steven tightens her jaw. “I’m a single dad with a son. I wouldn’t be too happy to learn I raised an abuser. I’m not my family.”

“I’m not mine either.”

Steven nods. “I heard about that too. They’re trying to say you and Melanie were having an affair.”

“I talked to her a total of twice since I’ve been back in Salem. Once when she came with Nick to my office hoping to get an article about his ridiculous, and there’s no way around it, petty feud with his neighbors.”

“The Turnbaums?”

“Yep. He wasn’t too happy when I refused to write the story. Then I met up with her again when I came to their house because I know the telltale signs of domestic abuse. She refused to talk to me, but I still left a card. I’m gay, and more than that, I’m with someone, and it’s serious. Melanie’s a friend, and nothing else.”

“The guy you’re serious with--Sonny Kiriakis--he was here that night, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he was.”

“Nick defaced his house as well as your office. And the upstairs doors.” he adds, “Where you holed them up. He broke them when he shot at the house.”

“All evidence points to him doing all that. I have no idea who killed our cousin, Mr. Olson, whether it was someone we knew or a complete stranger, or if it was an accident or on purpose. What I do know is it happened on my property, right there, while the man I love woke up hearing bullets from Nick’s gun shooting about three feet above his head.”

“He was a bad seed, as everyone loved saying. And his dad wasn’t shy about saying it, either. I’m not trying to make excuses for him--and I believe you when you say he did it. But his life wasn’t exactly loving or nurturing.”

“You’re still a part of the family.”

“I left.” Steven says simply. “Becoming an antique dealer didn’t just change me, Will, it found me. You were raised badly too, and it looks to me like we both made choices the others couldn’t bring themselves to.”

“My family saved me. My sister, uncle, the woman he married, my grandma and John Black.”

“I remember John and Marlena.” Steven goes on. “They’re both good people. I know Nick’s family was a small faction of bad seeds, but right now I’m putting all that aside so we can put our cousin in the ground. Just like I’m going to stand here, right here and now, look you right in the eyes, and apologize for what Nick did to you.”

“Believe me, that’s not necessary.”

“It is for me. Maybe if I’d stuck around I could’ve been a positive role model in his life. But I got myself out, and I will never regret that. I have several good people we both call family, with a few bad seeds scattered, and one of them’s going in the ground before he’d ever had a real chance at a happy life.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to say it because I thought I wouldn’t mean it, but now I can. I’m sorry, Steven.”

“Thank you. I want to pay for the damage Nick did to your house, your office, Mr. Kiriakis’ house.”

“No, sir.”

“Okay, if not that, I want you to let me pay for whatever legal expenses Melanie needs.”

“Justin took her on pro bono.”

Steven sighs, “You don’t owe any of us anything, but I’m still asking. There’s got to be something I can do to make this right. I want justice for Nick, and I want to believe whoever did it will get caught, tried and punished. But there’s got to be something I can do on Nick’s behalf, to make myself feel better.”

“Give me your contact information, and after a few days, I’ll tell you the name of a woman’s shelter you can donate to.”

Steven closes his eyes, nodding. “That I can do.” He takes out his wallet, pulling a card out. “Contact me at your earliest convenience. I’m going to be there for the rest of our family, then I’m going to leave and go back to my son, and my life. I won’t come back.”

He sticks out his hand, and they shake on it.

“I really appreciate you coming out to talk to me.”

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Olson.”

Steven walks back to his car, pausing, then looking back. “You were really something when I was watching you play.”

“That I was.”

Will watches Steven drive away, then sits down, picking the ball back up.

Maybe antique dealing had made Steven Olson, and helped him find himself. But to Will, neither would’ve been possible if Steven hadn’t wanted it.

“It’s not just who borned you, it’s who raised you.” Will says out loud as he strokes his finger over the ball. “And how you choose to react to it.”

He puts the ball back down, picking his laptop again, then goes back to doing what he needs to do to keep those who matter most safe.


	74. Chapter 74

Eric pulls up in front of the riverside cabin with Shawn in tow just after 10. Together both men pull out fresh sheets and towels, soaps, shampoo, lotions, and groceries ordered by the guest.

Not even close to being a morning person, Shawn mumbles and scowls as they carry it all. “When this business is mine, I’m not going to waste my time cleaning cabins.”

Eric just laughs, “Oh yeah? Let me know how well that works out for you.”

Hearing the TV on through the open windows, not seeing a Do Not Disturb sign on the door, Eric shifts his load to knock.

A smile’s already on his face when the door opens. “Morning, Mr. Ramoray. Is this a bad time for housekeeping?”

The man smiles right back. “Long as I don’t have to do it, it’s fine by me. But I was expecting Derrick.”

“Derrick had a family emergency, so we’re covering for him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How’re you doing, little man?”

Shawn barely even registers the slight sneer in the man’s voice, forcing himself to be polite. “I’m doing alright, sir.” He carries the groceries straight to the kitchen. “Do you want to check to make sure your order is accurate?”

“I’m sure it’s okay.”

“Shawn, you take care of the groceries, and pin the receipt on the board.”

Whatever politeness he was faking is promptly dropped. “I know, Dad.” You’d think he hasn’t been doing this since he was a kid.

“Good, then after that, you can load up the trash. I’ll work on the bedroom, Mr. Ramoray, if I’m not in your way.”

“Cool thing about being a salesman? You have a lot of down time. I’ll just take my computer onto the porch, and I’ll stay out of your way. See if I can’t get a pitch done with a beautiful view to inspire me.”

He’s not too bad for an older guy, he thinks as he unplugs his computer. Nice piece of ass, but since he’s a family man, probably a little droopy.

Plus, he’s married to the Police Commissioner, who last he checked was a girl, so he’s not even going to try.

His little whelp doesn’t look too happy with his part of the job. Not that he can blame him. Groceries and housekeeping--that’s a housewife’s job.

“Probably prefer to hang out with your friends than cleaning cabins, huh?”

Shawn shrugs. “Family business.” He puts the milk and juice in the fridge, looking back and seeing the book on the kitchen table.

His mood immediately perks up, because hello? Books.

“I know it won the Pulitzer, but I’ll take _A Farewell to Arms_ any day of the week.”

“Huh?”

“I know they’re all downers, but that one really is. Dad prefers _For Whom the Bell Tolls,_ and yeah, it’s not bad. But _Farewell to Arms_ is still the best.”

The man stares at him blankly, “Good for you.”

Shawn gives Ramoray a very long look. “I just started Dublin Murder Squad, and it’s really good. I’m gonna do French’s entire series before summer’s over.”

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.” Ramoray says as he takes his computer to the front porch, closing the lid on any other conversation.

Still thinking on it, Shawn puts the rest of the groceries away he assumes Ramoray would be too lazy to buy himself.

Knowing what his job is--and his dad--he loads the dishes Ramoray was clearly too lazy to load up in the dishwasher himself. Then, following the usual routine, he dumps all the trash from the kitchen into a big plastic bag before noticing Ramoray hadn’t even bothered to separate regular and recycling.

With a very resentful look aimed at the door, Shawn does it himself before taking the bag to the bedroom. His dad already took everything off the bed, loading the sheets and towels into the laundry bag.

Shawn starts to speak up, thinking about the open windows, then decides to save himself the trouble.

He puts clean sheets on the bed--something he’s more than happy to do the rest of his life if it means he doesn’t have to clean someone’s bathroom.

Because, hello. Disgusting.

He knows how rude this is, but he pulls open the nightstand drawer open just slightly. Unused condoms.

Then the other one. Empty.

He keeps doing his job, emptying the rest of the trash, dusting furniture, putting glass and plates by the bed in the dishwasher.

He does both bedroom floors, though it looks like the man hasn’t even touched the second one, leaving the other bathroom for his dad to clean himself, and does all the dusting and polishing in the living room.

Almost in a rhythm, he sweeps the back porch, checking the water in the pots while his dad focuses on the kitchen.

In just under an hour, they take out the dirty linens, trash, recycling. And, Shawn’s quick to notice, instead of working on anything, let alone a sales pitch, Ramoray has Cookie Jam going before it quickly changes to a screensaver.

“All finished. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Same to you.” Ramoray tells Eric. “Sure is a nice place. Oh, sorry, I meant to say the grounds are nice. Quite the green thumb, huh?”

“Oh, I wish. All credit goes to Sonny Kiriakis of Common Ground Landscaping. We put another marketing list on the board with today’s receipt. Just let us know if you need anything else.”

“I’ll do that. If I finish my pitch, I might just try river rafting tonight.”

“If you do, don’t forget the complimentary coupon rental. It was part of your welcome folder. Happy pitching.”

Shawn waits until they’re back in the truck, until his dad turns on the engine. “Salesman my ass.”

“Shawn Brady!”

“Dad, I’m serious. He was playing Cookie Jam on his laptop.”

“Well, golly gee, Shawn, so he took a little break, or was using a distraction while we were cleaning up.”

But Shawn insists. “If he’s a book salesman, then why did he think Dublin Murder squad is a TV show?”

“It _is_ a TV show. And even if it wasn’t...not everyone reads popular fiction.”

Shawn keeps shaking his head as Eric drives to the next riverside cabin. “No, Dad. It’s just, no. He’s supposed to be well read on the books he sells, right? But when I said something about _Farewell to Arms_ and _For Whom the Bell Tolls_ \--he had a copy of _The Old Man and the Sea--_ he had no idea what I was talking about.”

“Of course he did.”

“No.” When Eric pulls up to the next riverside cabin, Shawn turns in his seat, face determined. “He did not. And if he’s a book salesman, why does he just have the one book in the entire place?”

“Probably has a tablet.”

“I never saw one. And he--he was checking you out when you moved to the bedroom.”

“Oh no! Call your mom and have the guy arrested.”

“I’m not homophobic, Dad. You know I’m not. I just didn’t like _how_ he was checking you out.” Shawn mumbles, not impressed. “I don’t like him.”

“Shawn, there’s no requirement for us to like every guest that shows up in our cabins. All we have to do is give them good service. Which is what we're going to do with this family right here, right now. Five people, including three kids, two under ten, in this one. So work’s not done yet.”

Shawn has way more he wants to say, but since his dad’s not really listening, period, maybe his mom will.

He cleans three more riverside cabins--that family of five definitely being the worst--then goes into town. He goes by the police station, then hesitates.

He knows his mom will listen, that much he knows. But she’d also tell his dad, and then he’ll lecture Shawn about it.

Maybe not his mom--not yet anyway--but he should still talk to family, someone who knows a thing or two about liars and bad people.

Family, adult, journalist. And one who exposes the bad guys.

He turns around, walking straight to Will’s office.

The building looks really good, he thinks. He never saw the stuff Nick Fallon slapped all over it in person, but a friend of his had snapped a photo and shown it to him, so he’d seen it like that.

He figures Nick Fallon was one of the bad guys his mom and Ethan and Will were always dealing with. But now that the guy’s dead, he doesn’t have to.

He walks straight in. Mr. Stevens looks up from his computer--no Cookie Jam for him, no doubt.

“Hey, Shawn.”

“Hey, Mr. Stevens.”

“Got any stories for us?”

Shawn smiles, knowing it’s expected. “Not exactly, but I need to talk to Will about something.”

“Lucky you. He has a half hour before his next interview. Go right in.”

Zoe, who Shawn’s always had a low key crush on--though he’d never stare at her ass the way that slimeball Ramoray had looked at his dad’s--comes in with a large file.

“Hey, Shawn.”

“Hi. Just going back to see Will.”

“Great. Could you tell him I made the copies he asked for?”

“Okay.”

He keeps going, pausing at Will’s office door, where Will’s sitting at his desk, frowning at his computer. No lollygagging on there either, Shawn thinks.

He knocks on the door’s hinges. “Hey, Will?”

“Hey, Shawn.”

Doesn’t even hesitate, Shawn hesitates when Will swivels. Most adults would act like they’re paying attention while still distracted by something else.

His parents even do it now and again, until you force them to listen.

“I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, take a seat. Something you need?”

“No. I have no idea. Not necessarily. My dad won’t listen. So...Derrick had a family emergency.”

“I heard. Or Richard did, so I heard like that.”

“I’m sorry, really, I am, but I had to help Dad clean some of the riverside cabins so Derrick could have time off. I don’t really mind it, but when I’m running the show, I figure I’m gonna hire more help. Anyway, we’re cleaning the one that guy that’s supposed to be a classic novel salesman, who’s making a sales pitch is staying at.”

“Supposed to?”

“Yeah, Will’s listening. “Yeah, supposed to be. If you had _The Old Man and the Sea_ sitting out, and I said _A Farewell to Arms_ was better, what would you say?”

“I’d say though _Old man and the Sea_ is a literary treasure, I’d agree with you. Though I really like _The Sun Also Rises.”_

“I never read that one--but see what I mean? You’d have something to say about it. You wouldn't just, like, not know what I was talking about. And if you were really a classic novel salesman, you’d have plenty to say about it.”

“I'll agree with you on that again, but it’s also possible he didn’t want to talk. Could’ve been surprised a teenager could have an opinion on Hemmingway. Not everyone’s as friendly as us.”

“But he tried to, that’s the thing. ‘How’re you doing little man?’” Shawn rolls his eyes. “I hate when people do that. I’m not little, or a man, so it’s...insulting.”

“Okay.” The kid likes mysteries, Will thinks. And since it’s intriguing that Shawn thinks he’s in the middle of one, Will leans back, swiveling. “Clearly, he rubbed you the wrong way. What else is there?”

“Okay, before the whole book incident, he was looking at Dad’s ass.”

“I hate to be the devil’s advocate, I really do. I’ve been known to look at a guy’s ass now and again. And I’m most likely going to do it again.”

“No, not like that. It was...” It still makes him uncomfortable, makes a chill run down his spine. “It wasn’t friendly. It made me feel...like I was suddenly really happy my dad wasn’t alone with the guy.”

Whatever initial humor Will was finding in the situation, it’s now gone. “Okay. If you had a bad vibe from him just based off of that one thing, we’ll make sure your dad’s never alone with him.”

Whatever embarrassment Shawn was feeling disappears into relief. “You actually believe me?”

“I believe you when you said you got a bad vibe. That’s enough for me.”

“Okay, that’s good. A few more things. So I started wondering when he acted like he’s never heard of _A Farewell to Arms._ I told him how my cousin--you--got me hooked on the Dublin Murder Squad series, and how I was gonna finish French’s entire series over the summer.”

“Dublin Murder Squad. Good stuff.”

"That's right, it is. And his response? That he doesn't watch a lot of TV--even though it's literally on right in front of us."

"Well, at the very least, I feel sorry for his bad taste, but--."

"He doesn't have any books, Will!" Riding the high, Shawn throws up his hands. "Not even one book besides the one. I actually looked when I was cleaning the place up. Not one. And don't say Kindle, because there wasn't one. I checked. Please don't tell Dad or Mom--about any of it, but especially not this--but I snooped in the drawers."

"I'll consider it a verbal confidentiality contract, but please don't make it a habit."

Because he doesn't plan to, and maybe he'll deserve whatever lecture he had coming to him--much, much later--Shawn goes on. "He wasn't putting together a pitch either. He was just playing Cookie Jam. I think he's lying about being a classic book salesman, and about putting together a pitch. But why would he lie?"

"We don't know for sure he is, but plenty of people lie for plenty of reasons. How long is he staying?"

"No idea. Couldn't even check because Dad went to the office. He has a really expensive scotch in his cupboard. The kind John bought for Dad for Christmas last year. I saw it when I was putting the groceries away. And his shoes look like they've never been worn. He doesn't even recycle, and the bin was right there! How does someone driving a Hybrid not recycle?"

"He's lying, Will." Shawn insists. "People with something to hide lie. Bad guys lie. Criminals with something to hide lie, right? What if he's the guy that killed Nick Fallon and dumped him in the river?"

"Whoa, slow down there. You're making some really good points. Don't show all your cards yet. Do you know his name?"

"Ramoray. Damnit, I forgot his first name. If Dad leaves the office, I can search the computer and find out more."

Jesus, Will thinks, the kids a loaded pistol ready to fire.

"Not so fast. Last thing I need is you getting into trouble over this." Will picks up his baseball again, turning it over. "I respect the hell out of the fact that you came to me. I'm also going to respect your reasons for what you're feeling. So I'll do all the digging for you. If it all checks out, no skin off either our noses. If not, I'll tell your mom."

"Promise?"

Will raises his right hand in a Boy Scout salute. "It'll take me a few days, but I will. In the meantime, you can pay me back by staying the hell away from that cabin."

"Okay."

"Promise?"

The way Shawn hesitates tells Will the okay was just a cover, but the promise is more binding.

Shawn raises his hand in a salute as well.

To make it stick even more, Will takes out a yellow pad of paper. "Okay, tell me everything you know. Ramoray, classic book salesman--you know where he was coming from?"

"Back east, but the Hybrid is a rental. He's close to your age. Maybe an inch taller. He's got dark hair, gray eyes. Wears a suit."

The kid pays attention, Will notes as he hits it all down. He throws a few questions Shawn's way, getting whatever answers he can.

"Okay, this I can work with." Will pushes up from the desk, satisfied. "Let's get a cold one before the next interview walks in here."

With that, Will moves closer to Shawn, sealing the deal with a handshake.


	75. Chapter 75

Once he sends Shawn on his way, Will sits back down at his desk, making more detailed noted from their conversation.

He knows Shawn's smart, and not just book smart, either. And naturally friendly. Something about Ramoray was nagging at him. And while Will can’t really see some random person renting a riverside cabin on the Salem River smashing Nick Fallon’s skull, he’s still going to make good on his promise.

So first, he needs a full name, where he supposedly works, maybe an address, if it’s on record.

Easy, really--if he can ask Uncle Eric, or Hope. But he promised, and he plans on keeping it.

He pushes the mission aside for the next Spectator interview, and can’t think about it again until the work day’s over.

But now he has a plan.

He strolls out as Richard and Zoe are closing up for the day.

“I’ll be in by noon at the latest.” Will says, like both didn’t already know. “I don’t think I’ll be more than an hour.”

“However that works out, your first appointment will be at 2.”

Richard pulls his wallet out of his desk. “You should head to lunch.”

“How about I bring it back for all of us and gave a little picnic out back?”

“I’m in. But not burgers.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Richard. Betcha I know something you don’t.”

Richard smiles smugly, “Betcha you’re wrong.”

“Apparently we have a salesman selling literary classics in one of the Horton riverside cabins.”

Richard rolls his eyes. “That’s old news. Classic novel salesman from California, spending his summer here for the quiet. Around your age, is my guess. Definitely single, since he’s alone and no wedding ring.”

“Wait, I think I met him.” Zoe turns her computer off, pulling out her purse. “Mr. Ramoray.”

“Hans Ramoray?”

“Uh.” Zoe pauses, forehead wrinkling in thought. “No, it was, Blake, Drake. Deke. Something close to that. Not Hans. Why do you ask?”

“So not someone I’d know then.” Will says quickly. “How’d you two meet?”

“Just met in passing outside a few days ago. Just looking at the building--like everyone was before we painted it. We talked. He asked where we could find somewhere with good food and drink. I told him Doug’s.”

“Nice choice.”

Will closes up behind them, seriously considers going down to Doug’s himself to spy. But quickly abandons it, in favor of starting with Blake-Drake-Deke.

He sends a text to Sonny as he’s walking to his car.

_Well’s dried up. Heading home._

_Me too, actually! I just got in line for BBQ sandwiches, slaw, and sweet potato fries. Tonight, we’re kings._

_I’ll have a cold one with your name on it ready._

_Give me half an hour._

Works for him, Will thinks, definitely works for him.

Will drives home, looking forward to sharing Shawn’s story with Sonny--since Shawn didn’t say anything about not telling Sonny. Plus, Will values Sonny’s opinion.

Because what exactly is it with a guy that drives a hybrid who doesn’t recycle? Or a classic novel salesman who wouldn’t like talking about Hemmingway with a teenage boy?

A mystery, Will thinks, one he realizes he wants to dig deeper. It reminds him, Will realizes, of working with cops, and getting inside of the heads of the people he writes about, so he can expose them properly.

He turns up his road, winding a curve, then promptly slams on the brakes.

The truck blocks the road, so Will can’t drive past. Jeremy Jacobs, yet another cousin of Nick’s, is standing next to it.

And Will is honest to god praying he’s not about to be shot at nearly a quarter of a mile from his own house.

He doesn’t see one as he gets out--but it doesn’t mean Jeremy doesn’t have one on him.

Still, Will’s pretty sure he can overpower the guy, and while Jeremy’s no pushover, Will’s still pretty confident he can handle himself, long as Jeremy only uses his fists.

“You’re in my way, Jeremy.”

“My cousin was just buried.”

“I know. Just like I know I’m not the reason he’s in there.”

Jeremy steps closer, fists clenched, body geared up for a fight. “Jess says you are.”

“I’m sorry Jessica lost her son. Nothing can even compare. But that doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t me.”

“You’d have the perfect cover up if it was. You’re related to half the fucking cops in the Salem PD. No one would dare speak up against a Horton, especially not some lowlife Fallon.” Jeremy spits. “So we’re going to have this out, right here, right now.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to accomplish? You hit, I hit? Nick’s still dead and gone, and I’m still not the killer.”

“He wouldn’t be if you hadn’t brainwashed his wife into leaving him. Whether you dumped him in the river or not, he’s dead because of you.”

Screw this, Will thinks. Neither of them is getting out of this without someone bleeding. “He wouldn't be dead if he hadn’t been stupid enough to walk on my property and shoot at my house.”

“Nowhere near what you deserved, for sticking your nose in what was none of your damn business. You really think you’re better than him? Or me?”

"No." Will redistributes his weight, because he knows what’s about to happen. “I know I am.”

He pivots into the first hit to block it, letting it bounce right off of him. Then he shifts his eight again, sending a roundhouse kick straight to the solar plexus.

That succeeds in knocking Jeremy back, but doesn’t stop him. Will feels the bare knuckles hitting his chin, using it to put more punch behind his own hits. The fist hitting Jeremy’s face succeeds in splitting a lip.

Jeremy sticks his bloody teeth out, and charges at him.

Big mistake, Will thinks, and just dodges while his left arm turns into an uppercut right into Jeremy’s jaw.

“This is pointless.” Will starts, holding back as Jeremy shakes his head.

And that’s another big mistake, not following through. As Jeremy runs at him, Will remembers Kaye’s words to a young man, that served as his boxing gloves.

No sanction, no fair.

Tasting blood, Will dives right in.

Singing along with the radio--Benji going nuts as they take the road home--Sonny decides today was as close to perfect as he can think, and is definitely looking forward to topping it off with a perfect night.

Then he has to slam on the brakes, in a moment of utter shock as Benji yelps in protest.

Sonny jumps out of the truck, already snatching up his phone from his pocket, as he runs around Will’s car towards where a bloody faced man swings a face towards Will.

Will calls out, “No police!” and the brief distraction allows the fist to meet its target.

Sonny all but actually feels it. He clenches a hand around his phone as the dog starts howling over the ugly sound of skin hitting skin.

Sonny forces himself to breathe--in the nose, out the mouth--refrains from dialing 911 because he can clearly see, for the time being, Will has the advantage.

Good form, Sonny tells himself, and man, can the guy take a punch or what? But if he doesn’t stop soon, Sonny will first.

Winded and with a swollen eye, Jeremy circles. “When I’m done, your little fairy boy’s getting his next.”

Will hears Allie screaming, sees Stefano pulling her by her hair. Image firmly in mind, he moves in frozen anger. If he takes any more hits, he lets them slide right off, that one image the only thing he sees, forcing Jeremy to fall back.

Now Jeremy’s hits are crazy, loopy as he starts to stagger. And he still stumbles forward, flailing until his knees give out from under him.

Once he’s down, Will almost jumps him anyway, to beat him to a bloody pulp until he’s burnt himself out. 

But he’s not Stefano, and never will be.

So he keeps one foot on Jeremy’s chest, effectively stopping him from getting up.

“Stay down, damnit. Use your head. I’m better at this than you could ever hope to be, and I know for a fact you are well aware I’m better than Nick ever was. I don’t need to cheat with a rock.” Will crouches, looking into those beady, swollen eyes. “And even if I did, you’d be dead right alongside him. You know damn well I didn’t kill him.”

“Then who the hell was it?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not going to rest until I do. Whoever it was killed on my property, and as far as I’m concerned, they’re public enemy #1, because that was a threat to the man I love, the man I have every intention of spending the rest of my life with, and have a family with. I won’t stop until I have answers.”

Straightening up, Will looks at Jeremy, simultaneously disgusted and pitying. “I didn’t do it, and it wasn’t my fault. You so much as think of trying again, you’re going to wish you hadn’t. You look at the man I love, or any of my family, you will live to regret that the rest of your life. You do anything to cause problems for Melanie and her family, you’re as good as dead. Do you understand?”

“My cousin’s dead.”

“And water is wet. You getting beaten to a pulp and winding up arrested--and I’ll see to it you do--is not going to change that. Now get up and get the hell off my property. And don’t come back.”

Silently, Sonny gets back in his truck, pulling it aside, getting out again to wait until Jeremy manages to stand up.

He doesn’t even look in Sonny’s direction as he drives away.

Will wipes the blood off his face with the back of his hand, and attempts to smile.

“So how’s your day been?”


	76. Chapter 76

Once they’re officially inside the house, Sonny all but orders Will to sit at the counter, grabbing Will an ice pack and a beer.

“Best boyfriend ever.” Will decides, wincing at the first sip.

“I’ll clean you up. Jesus, Will, you’re a mess.”

“You saw the other guy, right?”

“Yes I did. Sit, and we’ll talk.” Sonny grabs a beer for himself, then goes to grab the first aid supplies.

Will looks down at the dog, who’s currently looking up at him with eyes that are practically gushing with love and worry. “Come on, it’s not that bad. Right?”

But when Will moves the ice pack to the other eye, he winces.

“Still can’t forget how much it actually hurts. Damnit, damnit. I have a big interview in the morning. Oh, not to worry. Just got into a fight with a cousin of the guy that was murdered on my property. Nothing shady about that.”

Then he thinks, Shit, and sips his beer again.

Sonny sets the first aid stuff down, walking over to the sink to run some cold water over a washcloth. “Truth or lie?” he wonders.

“I’m a journalist. I can do both if it means I get a story. It’s not so bad, is it?”

“You definitely have a shiner--on the right. Didn’t even get one on the left. I can bandage up the cut over the right. You got a bruised jaw, and scrapes on the same side--gotta work on your right guard. Right cheekbone, that’s pretty cut up too. I can bandage that up too, but there’s a chance you might need an X-ray.”

“No broken bones. I know what they feel like.”

Because he’s had his fair share of bumps and bruises, Sonny nods. “Blurry vision, nausea?”

“Nope.” 

With a completely stoic face, Sonny turns back. “Take your shirt off. Let’s see everything else.”

Will tries to comply, then hisses again. “Okay...looks like he landed a few.”

“More than a few. You weren’t serious, not at first.”

Will lets Sonny help him pull his shirt off. “He’s got a dead cousin.”

“And you not going full force doesn’t negate that. He made a pretty Rorschach test on your ribs.”

Will takes Sonny’s hand before Sonny can test for broken bones. “Are you mad at me?”

“No. Why?”

Will taxes a finger down Sonny’s face. “Because you look like it.”

“I am, but not at you. I’m pissed that’s what you had waiting for you right when you came home, beating the crap out of someone I’ve never even met. Keep the ice on your ribs while I take care of Benji.”

Sonny pours some food for Benji to start scarfing down, opens the kitchen doors so Benji can take care of business. “You wouldn’t let me call Hope because you didn’t want the guy--what’s his name? Jeremy? You didn’t want it to be on him. You also didn’t finish it sooner, when you could’ve easily, because you wanted to land a few more hits. You refused to let him get to you until he said that stupid crack at me.”

“I won’t deny that.”

Sonny turns to Will, face simultaneously angry and sad. “This wasn’t our fault, Will.”

“I know, Sonny. I don’t think he even liked the guy, but family is family. He didn’t even have a gun on him. I think he had the idea he was going to force me to confess, and instead I just have to hope he left believing me when I said I didn’t kill our cousin.”

“If anything like that happens again, don’t hold back.”

“It most likely won’t.” Will moves his jaw gently. “Especially since I have a big interview tomorrow.”

It’s so annoying for Sonny to realize he actually admires Will for how he handled the whole thing.

Sonny wrings out the washcloth in the sink.

“Let me work on your face.”

He knows what he’s doing, Will thinks, gentle, but not shying away either. And he’s not squeamish when he’s washing the blood off the rag, either.

Will watches Sonny’s eyes as Sonny keeps cleaning Will up, those deep, dark eyes.

Sonny smells like dirt and plants.

“Must've forgot to keep some stuff quiet,” Will starts. “When I said the rest of my life, with a family and all that jazz.”

“This is gonna hurt.” Sonny warns, picking up the antiseptic.

Will curses everything under the moon as it touches every cut and bruise on him. “Why does the healing hurt more than the actual pain?”

“Maybe to remind us to not get into trouble.” Carefully, Sonny fixes the butterfly bandage to close it on the cut on Will’s right eye.

“I swear I was planning--as far as I was able--to wait before I threw out the idea of lifetime commitments. Getting married, having kids. Blame it on the rush of adrenaline.”

“Okay.” When Sonny picks up the bandage, Will takes Sonny’s hand again.

“Do you want to be a parent, Sonny? Be my husband, spend the rest of your life with me?”

Sonny just gently rests his head on Will’s. “I won’t lie, being someone’s husband still makes my throat close up, but I do want to be a parent, and I feel like we’re already spending our lives together.”

“Marriage is just a piece of official paper.”

Sonny stands back, looking Will straight in the eyes. “No it’s not, and you know it.”

“You’re right, it’s not. I can go back to keeping this all under wraps until you’re ready.”

“We’re okay, right, with all of this?”

“More than okay. At least from where I’m sitting.”

Sonny leans forward, kissing both the bruises and cuts on Will’s face.

“I was wondering when you were gonna start.”

“Had to get past being mad first. Not at you, obviously. I still mean that. Did you do martial arts in college?”

“A little. Still got to work on the elbow thing.”

Sonny goes to dump the blood stained water. “I might be able to show you some moves to make up for that.”

“How lucky for me.”

“In every way. Will, you need to tell Hope. I’m not telling you to press charges, or having her confront him, but she has to find out from you before anyone else.”

“I know.” As they speak, Will’s already thinking about how exactly he’s going to do that. “I don’t like it, but I know.”

“The second anyone gets a look at your face, they’re gonna know.” Sonny grabs three painkillers, and a glass of water. “So just tell her and be done with it. Then we’ll have some good old fashioned BBQ and another beer.”

“You realize you’re making it very hard to be anything but madly in love with you, right?”

“Quite the catch, aren’t I? Call her, talk it all out. I’ll start warming up dinner.”

Calling Hope--and this is on Will for not listening to his gut--means Hope insisting on coming over to see Will in person. Which means Uncle Eric and the kids are coming with.

Then because Uncle Eric just had to tell Allie, that means the rest of the kids too. At least Ethan and Allie had the decency to bring more food.

So in a roundabout way, a bloody fight turned into a last minute family gathering. Sonny watches as Kyle kisses Will’s, “owies” as much as Sonny did, hugging him for comfort.

Sonny supposes he’s missed out on a lot of last minute family gatherings, since he was the youngest kid, and the only one still in Salem. He decides getting to be part of them now is just another plus to living with Will.

Even when Allie makes a phony excuse about a gardening question to pull Sonny away from everyone else and to the front of the house.

“Just wanted to ask how you’re doing, and if you’re okay.”

“Will’s the one that got into the fight.”

“I know your past, and I know you’ve been through three different ugly experiences in the last few months. If you want to talk--as friends--I’m here for you.”

“Then I won’t lie. Part of me went straight into fight-or-flight mode, started shaking when I pulled up in front of Will and the latest problem with Nick. I had to force myself to not think about that because I knew it wasn’t helpful. But everything else? I was impressed because Will, despite how bad he looks at the moment, had the whole thing under control.”

Sonny looks down the river, softening. “I know how to look out for myself, and that’s always been important to me. Now I know Will can do the same, and me too if I ever need it.”

“Yep.” Allie agrees. “We grew up in the worst situation imaginable, but I always knew he was looking out for me. So I know exactly what you mean. But if you start shaking again, call me.”

“I really want to believe this means it’s all finally over.” Sonny pats the tattoo on his chest. “I’m ready for the calm after the storm.”

While Sonny’s talking to Will out front, Will signals Shawn, slipping away with him and the dog for cover.

“I want your permission to share what you told me with Sonny.”

“Wait, I don’t--”

“Just hear me out. What if you’re right, and we have a bad guy? Sonny lives here, too. More than that. I want his opinion on this. If I tell him behind closed doors, he’ll make sure it stays that way.”

“Make him promise.”

“I will.”

“Fine. But no one else.”

“No one else. I got a lead on his full name--without talking to anyone.”

“You do?”

The instant admiration in Shawn’s eyes lifts Will’s spirits some. “Yeah, and I’ll be checking it out after everyone goes home. I’m not promising anything, Shawn, but it’s a start. Now I need you to think. If I find anything even remotely sketchy or wrong, we have to tell your mom.”

At that, Shawn nods decisively. “Find proof, we talk to Mom.”

“Works for me.” They fist bump.

“Will you show me where Nick Fallon was murdered?”

“Not a chance.”

“Darn.” Shawn kicks the ground. “Okay, then show me how you knocked his cousin on his butt, and pinned him down?”

Will throws a fake punch, then catches Shawn in a headlock. “We’re going back inside.”


	77. Chapter 77

Will seriously considers putting off telling Sonny, since his family don’t leave until well after 10. But since Will really wants to start searching, he decides getting Sonny’s take on it would be better.

WIll runs a hand through Sonny’s dark hair as they sit under the garden lights for just one more moment.

“I had an interview with someone who gave me permission to share some confidential information, under the condition that it stays that way.”

“Why would someone your interviewing...” Sonny trails off as he sees Will’s signature, ‘just go with it’ look. “Okay, fine, I can keep quiet.”

“My interviewee is demanding you do the same.”

“You interviewee--whoever it is--has my word that I won’t say a word to anyone. What is it?”

“I’m gonna tell you, but let’s take a walk. If I sit here any longer, I’m gonna go stiff.”

“You’ll be going stiff overnight anyway, but that’s still a pretty good idea.”

The dog walks with them, stopping here and there to jump at the glowing fireflies.

The evening campion Sonny had spotlighted now covers the air with its smell.

And underneath all the calm, that lazy easiness that comes with summer, Will introduces the crazy.

Sonny only stops him now and again to clarify, or ask the occasional question.

Once Will’s done, they’d walked all the way to the back of the house, taking seats on the porch, watching the moon shine over the river.

“Well, first off, that kid’s got good instincts.” Sonny concludes. “Because there’s a lot there that definitely doesn’t add up. One book? There’s no way, especially considering what he’s claiming is his job, and what he says he’s doing here. But it could be Shawn just missed the Kindle.”

“That’s possible.” Will agrees.

“Or maybe he just reads on his laptop, but I find it ridiculously hard to believe a classic novel salesman has one book for his entire vacation.”

“I agree.”

“It could be he’s just an asshole with recycling, and just got a good deal on a rental hybrid. It’s always possible to work things around in another way, isn’t it?”

“Now only is it,” Will says, “a lot of us folk make a living doing exactly that.”

“Still...you go door to door selling classic novels, so you were probably required to read up on the books you’re selling to help with your sales pitch. There’s no way in hell you’d ever blank on Ernest Hemmingway. More recent novels? He could just be a snob when it comes to books, but then all he has to do is ask, What’s the Dublin Murder Squad?”

“And when you try to put everything together.” Sonny concludes again, “all of it just doesn’t add up. What're you planning to do next?”

“Turns out Zoe ran into him right outside. In my clever, journalist way, I even got a name. Or names, to be more accurate. She’s convinced it was Blake, Drake, or Deke Ramoray. So since I don’t know where in LA, or what company he works for, I have to starts there.”

“That’ll take forever. Here.”

Sonny pulls out his phone, holding out a hand to stop Will’s protest. “Hey, Eric, sorry. I forgot with Will’s shot at the title I was going to send my crew to do some maintenance on the riverside cabins. Thought we’d start with 4, then work our way from there. Is anyone staying in 4?”

Sonny says a few mm-hms, “We’ll be sure to start before noon. Unless he’s planning on checking out early. He’s not? Oh really. Another one? Where’s he coming from?”

Sonny smiles at Will smugly, “Los Angeles. Well, we’ll make sure we don’t interrupt him. Yes, I’ll be sure to make him ice again before we wind down for the night. Yeah, I can do that. See you tomorrow.”

Sonny hangs up. “He called the guy Mr. Ramoray, and it would’ve been really weird for me to ask for a first name. But he did say the guy’s working on a sales pitch, and came from LA.”

“That’s actually helpful. You’re good.”

“Now I actually have to send the crew over there--and stop by reception and show him where the actual weeds in the rock garden are--but that’s just part of the job.”

Sonny stands, reaching out a hand. “Come on, let’s put some more ice on that again and get started. And I can get to my long overdue shower before I start working on the paperwork.”

Will seriously needs a shower too, but this one unfortunately wouldn’t be fun.

By the time he’s done, and Sonny’s in another spare bedroom to deal with his own paperwork, Will’s more than ready for the fresh ice, and painkillers. And the ability to work on his laptop in bed.

Sonny pokes his head in an hour later--checking up on him, Will knows.

“How’s it coming?”

“Very slowly.” Will drags a hand through his hair. “There’s so many publishing houses with salesmen that go door to door.”

“Of course there is.”

“Even eliminating the big ones--Random House, Penguin, and St. Martin--there’s still hundreds. And considering he may have glorified his actual job, you have to go person by person. So far, there’s no Blake, Drake, or Deke Ramoray listed anywhere. But there’s still so much more to check.”

Because he can feel his body go stiff, Will stands up--he can feel his body protesting the whole way--trying to stretch and talk. “This would go so much faster if I could get John Black on this, or even an intern.”

“I’m not either of those, but I can take a few on myself. I’m all caught up. And I’m intrigued. I want to prove him right. Which is really weird.”

“It is. Even more so because I do too. But you’re supposed to be getting up in...about 7 hours.”

“I’m getting up then regardless. Same goes for you, Horton.” Sonny smooths out the hair Will had messed up. “You're way more exhausted than you let on.”

“Actually, I think I am.” Will admits. “Gimme an hour.”

At the end of that hour, it’s Sonny that calls it because Will really does look worn out. And Will that volunteers to take Benji out one more time because he needs to move around.

When Will and Benji are back, Benji stealing his newest sock, Sonny’s already out like a light.

Will just gets in next to him, breathing steadily against the aches and pain.

Then he takes Sonny’s hand, putting it to his face.

“Don’t make me wait too long for a yes.”

While Will falls asleep slowly, the man calling himself Ramoray sips his vodka, pacing the cabin.

He doesn’t like how that little twerp was looking at him. It’s been bugging him all day, enough to where he knew the little brat lives, hoping to catch him playing outside.

Lure him over to his car, take him out.

But he hadn’t seen the kid--which, now he can admit, was for the best anyway.

Another body dumped in the river? Not a good idea. And a missing kid to the mix? Way too much attention from a town like Salem.

He’s already been here longer than he was supposed to, he knows that now. He lets the excitement of the ultimate endgame keep him in this stupid quirky town. Not even in town, he thinks.

He’s living in the fucking wilderness.

I’m so over it, he thinks. Time to go.

Once he’s done what he set out to do, he’ll get in that god awful hippie car and be a fair distance away before anyone could point the finger at him.

Dump the car at the airport, where his real car is waiting. Wait until it’s pitch black, head home, dye his hair back.

Done and over with.

But now, he’s got work to do. He needs to wipe down every possible inch of this cabin, on the off chance they come looking for prints.

After that, he’s wearing gloves.


	78. Chapter 78

Sonny’s up at 5 sharp, and slides out of bed to get dressed in the bathroom, a habit he’s developed for the purpose of letting Will sleep in.

“Don’t bother.” Will mumbles. “I’m up.”

“Starting to hurt?”

“Next day’s always worse.” Will feels Sonny’s hand in his hair as Will manages to ease up--hello, pain--to turn the light on.

“Ice and painkillers. On it.”

“No, I got it. I have to get up anyway.”

“Slowly. I’ll start.”

Sonny walks back out--Will stopped being uncomfortable with Sonny’s casualness of walking around the house in nothing but boxers a long time ago--lowering his feet onto the floor.

“I’ve had the real deal.” Will stands, exhaling. “And I was a kid at the time.”

Then he sits back down.

The second he does, he considers calling in sick, weighing the risks and benefits of showing up for his interview with a black eye. Distracting, sure...could play the sympathy card to get a better story.

Maybe. Or not.

“Stop being so chicken. You can handle the drive to Chicago, and the hour interview.” he tells himself.

Before he can even try to stand again, Sonny’s back with the ice and painkillers, studying Will. “Looks worse on the second day, I see.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll see it yourself if you don’t believe me.” Sonny rests the ice on the right side of his face, then offers the pills with water.

“Least I got a cute nurse to take care of me.”

“The cutest. Look, I can always call Chad, have him get the crew set up, wait on you some more.”

“I just gotta move.”

“Did you get any sleep at all?”

“Here and there. When I wasn’t, I got a whole chunk eliminated from the LA list, so at least that was productive. Still no Ramoray.”

“Shawn’s gotta be right. I know he is.”

“He might be. Meanwhile while I was getting my own sleep here and there, I thought of something. If he’s driving a car, he has to have a license. I have a friend or two on the force in Crest Hill, thanks to my family in the Salem PD. Since I can’t ask Hope, I can ask them to run him through the system.”

“Is that even legal?”

“Uh…” Will makes a wishy washy gesture. “I’ll pay the fee, look the guy up--all three possibilities, in the criminal database, which is legal.”

“I’ll go get dressed, help you down, make coffee for both of us. What does the guy look like?” Sonny asks as he pulls out his cargo shorts.

“According to Shawn, he has kind of blackish hair, cut shirt. Close to my age--that’s what Shawn thinks--maybe an inch shorter, skinnier.”

Sonny pauses as he pulls on an undershirt. “Actually, now that you mention it, I saw someone who actually fit that description out on the river the other day. And I don’t know why, but he really creeped me out.”

Will narrows his eyes. “Did he try anything?”

“No, don’t be silly.” Sonny pulls on a t-shirt. “Not like I got a good look at the guy anyway. He was just cruising by while we finished up at the Olson/Anderson place. He half waved, but that was about it. But it was enough to make me cringe. Maybe I should take this morning off, help you finish here.”

“I have it covered. But I will go for that coffee. I’m okay, Sonny. I don’t have to show for that interview until 2, so I’ll just throw on some pants and be right down.”

“Alright. Let’s get going, Benji.” The dog immediately jumps up, ready for anything. 

But Sonny still pauses at the door. “You know, I really like this room, but I literally can’t wait until we’re back in ours.”

“Me neither. Just a few more days.”

Sonny actually said ours, Will thinks as he grabs some loose fitting sweats.

Maybe he doesn’t need to hold back for as long as he fears.

By the time Will’s made it downstairs, with coffee and cheerios with bananas, most of the stiffness has taken care of itself.

“Looks worse than it is.” Will tells him.

“Glad to hear it. Try and stop somewhere to grab some Icy-Hot. I should’ve thought of it before, but I forgot. It’s known to work wonders on bruises.”

Will makes a mental note of it, then goes for the coffee. “Where you headed?”

“Considering this Ramoray guy might actually be bad news, I’m having Chad and Ben go over there later in the morning, do that maintenance. I’ll go and see Eric at some point, but I have to start on the far side. You know Tony DiMera?”

“Sure. Besides being related to Stefano, and being filthy rich, he owns some rentals, lives in Chicago, but has a second home in Salem.”

“That’s him.” Sonny says while they eat. “Apparently the guys he hired for his property maintenance had no idea what they were doing, so he called us. We’re gonna be mowing, using mulch, weeding and pruning, and more. He’s got six rentals, so we got a pretty nice new client.”

Sonny smiles over his cereal. “Especially if I can convince him to let us do work on his place.”

“I’m know you can.”

“Because of how bad a shape his rentals are in, and sending Chad and Ben off because of subterfuge, it’ll take us about 3 days. Then I’m really hoping Susan Hunter, a good friend of Julie’s in her book club, takes me up on my offer for her yesterday. Apparently she divorced her husband after their marriage fall apart, and is sitting very comfortably on her settlement, and wants to--her words, not mine--‘wants to reimaging her entire house, top to bottom.’”

“You and Richard are neck and neck as far as who knows more about Salem.”

“People like telling me things. Like how Susan’s convinced he killed their son as an excuse to get divorced--and I can tell, just by the brief conversation I had with him, it wasn’t true. It was an accident, nothing more. They lived here while she was pregnant, and got married, in the cute little house. She got the house in the divorce, and he left her, despite his insistence their son’s death was an accident.”

“One claiming it was an accident, the other a murder.” Sonny keeps explaining as he eats. “She wouldn’t let up, and finally he quit his job here and handed her divorce papers. Didn’t even care about the settlement being fair, he was just done.”

Will listens, intrigued. “Please try and introduce me, because if she wants an audience, I’m in the perfect position to give her one.”

Sonny smiles. “She says she’s done dragging it all through the mud, and plans on just living her life quietly, at least until she falls in love again.”

“...that’s not even made up, is it?”

“Nope. She only ever had the one kid, but everyone’s really rallied around her. And after seeing my work at Julie’s--whom she wasn’t shy about showing her disdain for--she looked me up on my website, and saw the stream I did on your place.”

Sonny finishes the cereal. “She wants one too--and lilies. She remembers picking them with her son. And she wants more too. She said I was sweet, which I was flattered by, but even more so how she feels about supporting LGBT owned/friendly businesses. If she says yes, and I’m pretty sure she will, Common Ground Landscaping will be rolling in money come autumn.”

Sonny takes his bowl, and since Will’s done too, and Will’s to the sink.

“And one last thing. She wants to open a small clinic and name it after him--apparently he passed away recently, and would be funded by half of her settlement. I said you might want a reputable reporter to cover the story, mentioned your name--along with the disclaimer we live together. So you might be getting a call. ”

Completely impressed, Will just stares. “Have I told you lately just how crazy in love with you I am?”

“How could you not be?” Sonny walks over to Will, resting his hands on Will’s neck. “I need to ask you for something that’s going to be weird, even for me.”

“Shoot.”

“Text me when you start the interview. Then again when you finish.”

Will rests his hands on Sonny’s hips. “You keeping tabs on me?”

“Apparently. It’s maybe just a little out of my comfort zone, but I really need you to text me.”

“I will.”

Will leans in for a kiss. Before Sonny pulls back, he kisses Will’s black eye, the cut, and his jaw. “Gotta go. Come on, Benji.”

Pulling away, Sonny grabs a water bottle and his phone. “Don’t forget the Icy-Hot. Grab two,” he adds, striding away with the little dog running ahead of him. “I need some in my first aid kit.”

He’s not going to forget, Will thinks. And decides it’s a perfect time to buy Sonny some more flowers.

Sonny opens the door for Benji, turning the window down just a little as Benji gets into the front seat.

“New job site, Benj, but still the same rules. No digging or doing your business until you’re in an approved area. No chasing cats or other dogs.” he continues as he makes his way down the road. “And no sniffing crotches or butts.”

Benji flashes his puppy dog eyes at Sonny. “This one’s just a simple cleanup job.” he tells Benji. “But it could lead to bigger ones. If we do our jobs right, we might get a client to go for a perkup job next year, in the spring. Need to be thinking ahead,” Sonny reminds him, making the turn at the end of the road, then slows down when he sees the parked car right on the shoulder, hood popped.

Sonny pulls up behind. “Just a sec,” he tells Benji, stepping out of the car.

“Need some help?”

He hears what he swears sounds like, “Dead battery.” in a nasally voice.

“I can give you a jump.” Sonny starts as he walks towards the front, “Or I--”

He only has a split second to see the person’s shoes, suit, and back half of the figure hunched over the engine.

The first hit comes so fast and unexpectedly, Sonny never even sees it coming.


	79. Chapter 79

Knowing he needs to move quickly, he catches Sonny before he even hits the ground. The zip ties were ready and waiting, as he ties Sonny’s wrists--as a precaution--once he shoves Sonny in the backseat. Tosses a ratty blanket over him, as another precaution, though he’s not too far away from his destination.

In just less than two minutes since Sonny pulled up to his car, he gets behind the wheel, then pulls back out. He almost laughs himself sick as he drives with the radio on full blast.

And because it’s on full blast, he doesn’t hear the dog, now abandoned, howling.

Everything’s prepped and ready at the cabin, and he has to force himself to stop laughing, at least until he’s parked the car and taken a quick look around.

Sun’s barely even up, he thinks, thankful. Even the river’s quiet.

He drags Sonny out, forces him inside, dumps Sonny on the floor while he makes sure the Do Not Disturb sign is hanging on the door before locking it, shades completely pulled down.

“You and me, babe. You and me.”

When Sonny groans, and starts to stir, he hits Sonny once more.

“I never said I was ready.”

He cuts the zip ties, dragging Sonny into the chair he’s got set up in the center of the room. It’s nice and sturdy, little weight. He uses more zip ties on both Sonny’s arms and the arms of the chair, as well as Sonny’s feet to the chair’s legs.

“None of that Israeli mumbo jumbo today, asshole. That’s right, I did my homework. Even found an interview. Made me and my right hand very happy.”

He searches Sonny’s pockets, puts Sonny’s phone in his own, and the multi tool. And fondles Sonny’s chest just for the hell of it.

He looks at the time. Perfect! Though he’s sure he can take at least three hours with Sonny if he felt like it, he’d made a promise to himself he’d only do two.

He wipes the whole place down, every nook and cranny, had already packed his stuff.

This is where the fun begins.

He forces Sonny’s head back, tries to slap Sonny awake. But Sonny’s head just rolls. Second time clearly was just a little too hard, he decides.

Shrugging, he grabs a cold Powerade out of the ice cooler he’d packed for the trip.

He sits, gun in his lap, drinking and watching Sonny.

Sonny slowly comes to, face contorting with pain. Nightmare, nightmare, he prays, in a daze. Horrible headache inducing nightmare. Wake the hell up!

“Wake up, darling.”

He feels his blood literally freeze, his stomach drop right out from under him, clenching both hands into fists.

When Sonny’s eyes fly open, whatever pain he’s feeling right now is nothing compared to the fear clogging up his nervous system.

“I’m back, bitches.”

Only one person he knows ever talked like that. Sonny knows him very well. The dyed hair and snappy suit can’t change the eyes. Sonny knows him.

When he stands, casually holding a gun, sweat runs down Sonny’s face, drenching him in it.

Sonny tries to jump to his feet, to defend himself, fight back, only to find himself tied down.

“If you even try to scream.” The man warns, “And I’ll shoot you where you sit. It won’t kill you, but it’ll hurt like a bitch. Then I’m gonna gag you. I want to talk first, but I can always change it up to you bleeding to death and a monologue. Up to you.”

“What the hell do you want from me, Leo?”

“What did I just get done telling you?” Leo slaps him--not hard, just hard enough to let Sonny know who’s boss. “What the hell did I just get done telling you? Say it back. Leo wants to talk.”

Sonny tries to swallow the bile threatening to come up his throat. “Leo wants to talk. You don’t need a gun to talk. You got me all trussed up like a chicken. Where am I gonna go?”

“Did you just tell me what to do?”

“No, I politely asked you to put the gun down so we can talk.”

Sonny’s mind completely goes blank except for the pure terror when Leo sticks the barrel right under his chin. “No. Why don’t I just pull the trigger right now? Hm? You like that idea better?”

“I can’t do anything about that, but then I’ll never hear what you tracked me all the way to my hometown to tell me.”

“You’re shaking like a leaf, Sonny. Are you actually scared?”

“Yes. I am.”

“You should be.” But Leo still pulls the gun away, taking a step back. “Scared little gay boy, huh? You’re gonna do whatever I say, aren’t you?”

When he fondles Sonny’s chest again, Sonny can’t stop himself from flinching, or shuddering, but Sonny forces himself to say, “Yes, I am.”

Sonny thought it was impossible to hate someone as much as he hates Leo. But he’s just discovered he was wrong. If anything, his hate goes deeper.

“You really think I just came here for a wham-bam-thank you, ma’am? I could have my way with you if I really felt like it, but you’re not getting anything out of this. No, sir. You don’t get to be rewarded. You want to know what I want? I’ll tell you _exactly_ what I want.”

The anger in Leo’s voice has Sonny bracing himself for another hit, but Leo turns away instead, then turns back, waving the gun around.

“I want my life back, the one you single handedly ruined! I want every miserable second I wasted rotting away in prison back. I want my art career back instead of my own goddamn mother forcing me back in the closet, fighting my battles for me so I don’t embarrass her! I want them all to pay for cutting me out of their lives, and denying me what was rightfully mine. I want to stop pretending I was sorry for hitting my own goddamn husband because he needed to be knocked down a peg.”

“How’s that for what I want, huh, Sonny? Can you do all that?”

His face is suddenly very close to Sonny’s. Give in, Sonny thinks, Leo wants him to give in, swallow his pride.

Maybe if Sonny does, Leo just might spare his life.

Sonny lets the tears fall freely, “I’m sorry, Leo. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Are you, Sonny? Are you really? Were you sorry when you testified against me in court? You sure as hell didn’t look sorry, you lying bastard, when they found me guilty and your oh so lovely mother hugged you like you just won the fucking lottery.”

Just give him what he wants. “I was scared. I was, and now I know I made a mistake.”

“You call that a mistake? I was attacked my first week in prison because of your mistake. Just because I was the gay. You’re really going to just sit there and call it a mistake?”

So ironic, Sonny thinks, but keeps his head and eyes down. “You were so smart, and I was scared.”

“You belonged at home, at the mansion we lived in together, not in a stuffy office coming home panting like a dog in heat.”

Dog, dog, the dog! Someone has to find Benji, his truck. Someone--

“Are you even listening to me?” Leo forces Sonny’s head back.

“I’m beyond humiliated, Leo. I don’t know if you’ll ever find it in your heart to forgive me. If you’d just let me try to make it all up to you--”

“You think I came all this way for you?” Laughing maniacally, Leo pulls Sonny’s head back, hard, before letting go. “You honestly think I came into this little twink town just for you? I’m going to get back what’s rightfully mine, Sonny, and I’m taking it all out of you!”

Leo shoves the gun in Sonny’s stomach. “Let’s begin, shall we? How’s mommy dearest, Sonny? How’s she doing, mama’s boy? You have any idea how easy that really was?”

He hears his own phone go off--incoming text.

Temporarily distracted, Leo pulls away the gun, pulling the phone out of his pocket. “From Chad. He your little flavor of the week?”

Leo drops the phone on the floor, steps on it.

“Sorry, Chad. Sonny’s a little tied up at the moment.”

The shaking from before returns, making Sonny rap his knuckles on the chair’s arms. “What did you just say? My mom?”

“Huh? Oh yeah.”

Leo walks back for his Powerade, takes a long pull. “You turned to her, didn’t you? Went running to mommy while your darling husband was locked up in prison. Even got a restraining order when you heard I was being released, and slept with one eye open under dear old mom’s roof.”

“You..” Absolutely nothing, not even the sexual harassment case or the stabbing, could’ve prepared him for this. Or ever can. “You killed my mom.”

“No, that was all you, sweetheart. You might as well have out a gun to her head when you had me arrested. Just stole someone’s car--learned some nifty tricks inside. Stole a car, ran your mom off the road, and while she laid there dying, I snuck into your aunt Maggie’s place, chloroformed her from behind, got a prison buddy to take her to the accident site, and put a half empty vodka bottle in the front seat with her. Just had to wait for the cops to show up and piece it all together, and voila!”

Leo does a small victory dance. “Man, she died so peacefully. Just disappeared into the night, cause everyone was looking at Maggie, and whammo. Dead mom.”

Hurt, anger, and shock hits Sonny all at once, so he tries to get up in the chair despite being tied up. “She never did anything to you!”

“She took you away from me! She was so smug, the way she looked at me in court, and when they hauled me away. Biggest mistake of her life. Once I’m done here, I’m gonna kill you, and maybe a year or two later, I’ll come back and kill that nice piece of ass you’ve been fucking behind my back. It’ll be much cleaner than that little punk, thinking shooting at someone’s house was a good idea.”

Not just an abuser, Sonny realizes, underneath all the screams running through his head. Not just manipulative, violent, and selfish. A killer.

The facade he’d presented himself with, even when his trial had ended, has finally fallen away. Now not only can Sonny see the murderer, but someone who actually likes it.

And now he’s going to die here, by that same killer's own hand.


	80. Chapter 80

Though he still has plenty of time before his interview, Will gets dressed, except for a tie, dropping a baseball in his pocket. Richard was right about it ruining the line, but he likes turning it around in his hand when he listens to his interviewee’s story.

He folds a tie into his other pocket, then pulls out his phone when he hears it ring.

“Go for Will. Hey, Chad.”

“Hey, Will. Is Sonny there?”

“He just left about an hour ago.” A sudden chill goes down his spine. “You at the cabins?”

“Yep. He could’ve stopped somewhere else, but he’s not answering his phone. Tried both texting and calling. But the service is kinda spotty.”

“Yeah. Look, I’m going to be heading out...” He’ll call his contact in Crest Hill when he gets to Chicago. “I’ll swing by Eric’s. Sonny could’ve gone there first, got distracted. I’ll keep you posted.”

“I appreciate that. You know, I think I’m gonna call the Flower Palace, in case he stopped there.”

“Good idea.”

But Will can still hear the anxiety in Chad’s voice, because it’s almost the exact same as his own running through his head. Sonny would never get distracted or stop somewhere else that would make him late--not without telling his crew ahead of time.

Will seriously considers calling Hope as he rushes downstairs. Just stop by, Will promises himself. Most likely nothing, but couldn’t hurt to stop by.

Will tries Sonny’s phone as he leaves the house, and it goes straight to voicemail.

“Call me.” Will demands, jumping in his car.

When your gut’s saying something’s wrong, he thinks, you don’t ignore it. He slams a hand on his hands free to call Hope anyway, as he turns.

And sees Sonny’s truck.

Will tries to tell himself that the truck just broke down, but he knows, he already knows, before he even hears Benji howling.

Benji jumps straight into his arms once Will forces the door open. Fighting to stay calm, he calls Hope.

“Someone grabbed Sonny. His truck’s on the side of the road about a hundred feet away from the turnoff. The dog’s in the truck. Someone grabbed him.”

“I’m coming right now.”

He thinks of Jeremy Jacobs, and following his anger, gets back in the car, dog in the passenger seat. “Stay.”

He floors it, hard. How the hell could he have thought for even a second Nick’s family would take a beating without some sort of payback?

Because he saw it, Will realizes. Because he saw it in his eyes when Jeremy got off the ground. But if he was wrong…

He turns a little too fast, oversteering, and just keeps going.

 _I saw someone who actually fit that description out on the river,_ Sonny had told him. _And I don’t know why, but he really creeped me out._

No books, playing mobile apps, no Ramoray at any of the publishing houses he was able to check.

Made no sense, not even a little sense, but…

He makes his way towards the Horton Riverside Cabins.

“Sonny wouldn’t have pulled over for Jeremy Jacobs. That doesn’t add up at all. Stay.” Will orders Benji when he pulls out of sight of cabin number 4. To keep the dog from moving, on the floor, Will gives Benji his tie.

Then moves quickly and quietly to the edge of the drive.

The shades are pulled down. Why would they do that with a breathtaking view right outside? Maybe the bedroom, to sleep in, but the whole place?

Will keeps going, keeping to the soft earth, looking for any crack in the blinds where he can look inside.

As he circles, he hears an angry man’s voice. “Look at me, you worthless bastard! Look at me when I’m talking to you. I’ll blow out your kneecaps, then your stomach if you don’t start giving me the respect I deserve!”

Will pulls out his phone, texting Hope,

_Cabin 4. He’s got a gun._

Then turns his phone off.

Not even thinking about waiting for Hope, he circles back to the front. Get the guy outside--set off an alarm--lure him outside, rush at him. Outside, away from Sonny.

Before he can even get to the car, Benji starts howling.

“That’ll work.” Will murmurs, still moving, feels the weight in his pocket, gripping the baseball in his hand.

“What the hell is that?” Leo demands, moving to the window, pulling the blinds back to look outside. 

Behind him, Sonny keeps flexing his arms, rocking the chair.

Benji, now out of the car and all tangled up in Will’s tie, lifts his head and starts howling again.

“Fucking dog. Lucky I got a spare bullet for that little piece of carpet.”

Leo cracks the door open, then steps out on the porch, grinning, as he aims the gun.

Will steps out from next to the tree Sonny planted, winging the ball just like the kid that dreamed of playing shortstop at Wrigley Field.

It hits Leo right in the face with an ugly thud, and as he stumbles, the gun almost flies right out of his hand. From behind him, Sonny slams the chair into Leo as Will immediately rushes forward to finish the job. Leo's out cold.

Sonny falls back, almost falling and taking the chair with it, as Will goes right to him.

"T-triple." Sonny says in a stutter. "Benji to Horton to Kiriakis."

Then Sonny starts crying like someone just broke his heart, and took everything else with it.

"It's okay. He can't hurt you anymore." Will moves the gun away with his foot, keeping the foot on it as he keeps stroking Sonny's face.

"I have to cut you loose, okay? I'm going to cut you loose, and get you the hell away from here."

"It's Leo. He killed my mom. He told me everything. He killed my mom."

There's nothing Will can say to that, and he knows it, so he just presses his lips to Sonny's face.

"Hold on. Let get these damn things off of you."

"He stole my multi tool. In his pocket. Is he dead?"

"Here, I got Benji." Will lifts the dog, tie and all, in Sonny's lap. "Just keep holding on, okay?"

Still alive. Will finds a pulse when he finds the multi tool.

New anger and fury rages through him when he sees how deep they cut into his wrists.

"I'm taking you home, okay? Hope's on her way, then I'm taking you home. I'll take care of you, and all of this."

"He killed my mom because she loved me, because she helped me when I needed her the most. He told me he killed Nick. I think that was just cause he liked it, it maybe because he wanted to get you in trouble. Just because I'm with you."

"He can't hurt you ever again. He won't be getting out this time. I have to tell Hope what happened, get her to call an ambulance. We don't want him to die, Sonny, trust me, we don't." Will says as he pulls out his phone, turning it back on. "He deserves to live the rest of his life rotting away in prison. Hope, we got him. I have Sonny with me. We need an ambulance. Yeah, he's right here."

Will drops the phone in his pocket. "She was going to come quietly, but they're literally seconds away. You don't have to say anything right now I can take you home."

Sonny's gorgeous dark eyes are huge, a little glassy, but he keeps them on Will's. "You hit him with a baseball. You knocked him out with a baseball. I want it."

"Sure, we can do that in a minute. It'll have to go with Hope for now. Look, there she is. Along with the rest of the Salem PD."

Hope runs right towards them, gives Leo one long look. "Ambulance is on the way. I'm sending another one."

"Don't need one." Sonny holds Benji close. "That's Leo Stark, my soon to be ex husband. I stopped because I saw his car, and it looked broken down, right on the shoulder. He knocked me out, and when I woke up again I was tied to a chair. He tracked me down to kill me, but then he started monologuing. He told me he killed my mom, and how. He said he killed Nick. I want to save the rest of it for later. I'm still a bit shaken up."

"That's alright. What do you say to Will taking you to our place? It's nearby, and Eric's there. I won't be long."

Sonny starts to stand up, swaying. Will holds onto Sonny, transferring Benji into his free arm.

"Just a little shaken up."

"I got you." Will says, then looks at Hope. "I got him."

"I know you do. Take him to Eric." She looks down at Leo as Will leads Sonny away. "I got this covered."


	81. Chapter 81

It takes hours. While Eric calms and fusses over Sonny, Will takes a walk to try and calm himself down. Not that it works, but he still has the capacity to pretend it does, for Sonny’s sake.

Sonny gives a very long and detailed statement to Hope, letting Kaye treat all the lacerations on both his wrists and ankles, which Eric already bandaged.

Because Sonny asked for it, Kaye also gives him an update on Leo’s condition.

Concussion, bad eye, broken nose, cracked cheekbone. “Nice shot.” she says to Will.

“But he’s going to live?” Sonny pushes.

“He’s not in critical condition, but it’s still serious. Lost a few teeth too, and some contusions on the back of his legs.”

“He used the chair Leo tied him up in.”

“Another nice shot. Wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor.”

“Not the first time I’ve been hit, but I really hope it’s the last.” More steady now, Sonny stands. “Eric, you have no idea how much I mean it when I say thank you for being here when I needed you.”

“Sonny, I always will.”

“He killed my mom.” Sonny’s eyes fill again. “She’d be happy someone was able to find out the truth. The real truth.” Falling apart, he buries his face in Eric’s shoulder when Eric gently pulls him in.

When Sonny steadies himself, pulling back, Eric wraps an arm around Shawn’s shoulders.

“I will always take your suspicions seriously from now on. Always.”

“I’m sorry about your mom, Sonny. I really am.”

“I am too. Shawn, you’re my new hero.” Sonny leans over, hugging him hard. “Looks like there’s going to be plenty of those to go around.”

There’s more when Will finally takes him home. His whole crew is waiting for him on the porch, along with flowers, casseroles, desserts. Even angel food cake.

“We had to see you with our own eyes.” Chad starts. “We know you need to rest, but we had to see you with our own eyes first.”

He has to lower his head when his voice cracks.

“Two of the sites cleaned up real nice.” Ben clears his throat. “Figured that’s exactly how you wanted it. We’ll finish tomorrow, and you’re not allowed to show up on the job tomorrow, and that’s final.”

“Who died and made you the new boss?” Sonny demands.

“I could care less about that. If I ever see the guy that messed up your face out in broad daylight, he’s going to regret ever stepping outside to see the light of day. And that’s not negotiable either.”

“Let me help you inside, get you settled.” Lani moves down the stairs. “And this lot can take this all inside. More than likely, more is coming,” she continues as she wraps an arm around Sonny. “Will, the door was unlocked.” she adds, pulling Sonny inside. “Didn’t feel right just going in. More will be coming,” she continues, “the second word gets out what happened. People want to help if they can. You may have left, but you still matter here in Salem, Sonny.”

“Lani, I just want to go upstairs so I can cry my eyes out.”

“And I’m going to help you do that. Ciara, hand me one of those vases, would you?”

“It’s from Susan Hunter. Very big and flashy.” Ciara rubs Sonny’s back. “I’ll give Benji a you-know-what, Sonny. Something tells me he earned it.”

“Thanks, Ciara. Thanks, all of you.”

Lani holds him while Sonny cries, then sits with him until he falls asleep.

Once he’s awake, he looks out the big window at the view of the river, the boats passing by on it, kids jumping off the docks.

He looks at the flashy flowers sent by a women he’d just met. Thinks of the little posse that had been waiting for him when Will took him home.

Standing, Sonny studies his face in the mirror, sees the bruise on his cheek, the shiner--extremely mild, considering.

“You were never an idiot,” he says to his reflection. “You just thought you were.”

Then he walks downstairs, finding Will pacing the living room, phone in hand. “He’s awake,” Will says, eyes focused on Sonny’s face. “I’ll call back.”, he says into the phone, then hangs up. “Everyone’s checking in to see how you’re doing. I checked in on you not too long ago. Looks like you got some serious sleep.”

“Yep, and I can definitely feel it. Will--”

“Wait.” WIll says, then goes straight to Sonny, pulling him in--so unbelievably gentle--holding on. “I just want to look at you. Just for a bit.”

“Take your time.”

“When I saw your truck, I thought my heart literally stopped in that instant. Like everything did. I should’ve gone straight to Hope with what Shawn told me.”

“No way in hell. That would’ve broken Shawn’s trust, and Hope couldn’t have done any more than you. The second you start taking blame for any of this, it starts shifting away from who’s really at fault. So don’t.”

Sonny pulls back. “Instead, give credit to your incredible cousin, or amazing dog, and your baseball, all of which saved my life. Can we...”

“Name it.”

“Careful, or I might just say a trip to Costa Rica. Can we sit out on the balcony, drink some wine?”

“Of course.”

When Will grabs the wine, settles in next to Sonny, Sonny rests a hand over Will’s. “I want this all out in the open and done with. How the hell did you know where to find me?”

“My first thought was Nick’s family, but it just didn’t add up. Then I remembered you saying how you saw a guy that looked like the guy Shawn described, and that he’d waved at you from the river. That he creeped you out.”

“That’s it?”

“That, plus everything Shawn told us. Not finding anyone with the name he was using at any publishing house in California. My gut said to go, so I did.”

“Let’s have a drink to your gut.”

“I’m really sorry about your mom, Sonny. Has to feel like losing her all over again.”

Tears fall out of his eyes again, “At first it just completely drained me. He was literally bragging about it, gloating. Then it helped me hurt him. I never would’ve been able to pull it off without you and Benji, but I would’ve gone down swinging.”

After wiping his face, Sonny sips more wine.

“Something in his head snapped, Will. I think it was always right underneath the surface, like a coiled spring. You know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“He kept it hidden away, where no one would ever see it. Caught in the undertow, remember? He’s gone off the rails with me before, but never to this extreme. This was well planned out insanity. I think that’s what we should call it. He orchestrated the whole thing after the article broke about me fighting Stefano. Orchestrated it all, just like he orchestrated killing my mom.”

Sonny takes a breath. “I don’t think it would’ve turned out like he hoped. He would’ve been caught eventually. But he wasn’t. He thought he was off the hook because he was let off the hook before. And he likes it. He killed two people because he actually liked it.”

“I’m willing to bet there’s more than just two.”

“More...” Shock hits Sonny again like a ton of bricks. “More killings?”

“Very long time between your mom and Nick. Once they’re done with him, I’d bet anything there’s way more. At least two or three.”

“He was always going to go off the rails.” Sonny goes on. “He hid it so well. I was young and not as prepared for the real world as I wanted to believe. He was so nice, said all the right things to make me think I was falling for him. My god, he even charmed my mom.”

“He knew she was the most important thing in your life.”

“Yeah, he did. But once he was with me, he started slipping. I wasn’t a complete idiot. I knew I had to end things before they got bad, but I had no choice. You don’t just enter a marriage for the hell of it, and end it because the circumstances weren’t ideal. I wasn’t an idiot for wanting to keep Titan from going under.”

“Of course you weren’t.”

“I’ve always told myself I was an idiot. Letting Leo cloud my judgement, let myself get carried away by a good looking guy who I thought was perfect. I was an idiot for convincing myself I was one.”

“Glad you now know otherwise.” Will kisses Sonny’s hand, then his wrapped up wrist.

“Convinced I was an idiot, I told you, and myself--we’ll just take it slow, see what happens there. I mean, come on, all I was after was some good sex with a guy I was into, a cute guy who understands the necessity of baseball, appreciates the appeal of an adorable dog, and still manages to find it in him to embrace my creativity, and so much more.”

“I’m all of it.”

“You’re all of that, and a batch of triple chocolate cupcakes. And I love you--that’s not idiotic. I want a life with you, that’s not idiotic either. I want to start a family with you, which isn’t even close to idiotic.”

“Is this you proposing, Sonny?”

“Yes it is.”

Will gets up, pulls him in, sitting them both down. “When?”

“Little tricky. I want simple, right outside, party in the backyard. But there’s also Chad getting married next spring. Very busy season, and he wants a honeymoon too. We can’t both take time off.”

Will kisses Sonny’s cheek, eye, and finally his lips. “Labor day, then.”

“Labor Day?”

“Even if you have to take the day off. Especially if you’ll marry me.”

“Wait--you mean _this_ September? Horton, that’ll be here before you know it.”

“Why bother waiting? Especially when you’re not an idiot. And I happen to know some people who know how to throw one hell of a party in 10 minutes.”

“But there’s fall maintenance and tree planting. I--”

“We can wait, and take a honeymoon in winter. Slower season. We can go to Costa Rica.”

At that, Sonny has to laugh. “Now that’s pretty clever.”

“I’m not an idiot either. My heart stopped, Sonny.” Will tells him, tracing a finger over the tattoo on his chest. “I don’t want to waste another second now that it’s beating normally.”

“You saved my life with a baseball. I want it. Put it in a display box, keep it in the office I’m going to convert from a spare room. Once I decide which one’s up for the job.”

Sonny frames Will’s face. “Look at us. Shiners and bruises. We’re a matched set. Labor day weekend.” Sonny kisses Will lightly. “It’s a deal.”

“I think you’re holding out on me.”

“Who said I was done?” Sonny says, putting a hand on Will’s chest to hold him back. “If we’re really gonna make a family, and have kids, one of us has to get serious about cooking.”

Will eyes Sonny. “Flip for it. Tails I learn, Heads you do.”

“Rock paper scissors.”

“Two out of three.”

“Deal.”

Afterwards,when they’re laying in bed, Sonny tells himself cooking’s just going to be another adventure.

“One night a week we’ll have take out.” Will decides. “Be it pizza or something else.”

“Don’t even have to write it down.” Sonny rests his head on Will’s chest.

Together, with Benji snoring at the foot of the bed, they lay in the quiet of the room, watching the sun set over the mountains, lighting up the river over the surface of the water.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaaand that's the end! Thanks for reading, and hope to see you next time.
> 
> If you have a moment, please please please take a minute to sign this petition. Show NBC how much our boys really mean to us.
> 
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